1898. 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Clrap.ffj?. (Jop^i^t No 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 




Let me thy chorded breast wake from its sleeping, 

One throb from thy Symphonied soul wake again ; 
Too long has the Siren of Song in thy keeping 

Felt the touch of the hand that would wake — but in vain. — Norman. 



Ealien and Lenard; 



OR. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY 



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BY- 



JANIES NORIVIAN 



PHILADELPHIA 

SHERMAN & CO., PRINTERS 



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.04-? t 3 
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24091 



Copyright by 
JAMES NORMAN 



TWO OOPieS REC::iVED. 




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CONTENTS. 



Preface, 


PAGE 

5 


Ealien and Lenard ; or, The Shadow of a Prophecy, . 


19 


The Lovers' Meeting — After the Prophecy, . . . . 


19 


Lenard' s vStory, 


22 


The Forest Cave — The Sorceress, 


38 


The Dupe, 


58 


Rufus Hall — The Bedchamber — The Count's Soliloquy, . 


67 


The Trysting Place, 


74 


The Garden — The Snare, ...... 


. 80 


The Plot, 


. 87 


The Prison — The Captive, 


. 98 


The Banquet, ........ 


110 


The Armor Room— Rufus Hall, 


. 116 


The Banquet Hall, 


121 


The Bedchamber, 


122 


Finale, .......... 


• 136 


Miscellaneous Poems. 




Preface, ......... 


• 141 


Beauties of the Schuylkill, 


H5 


Immortal Lincoln, ....... 


. 146 


The Dervish Flag-Bearer, 


. 148 


The Irish Minstrel, 


. 150 


Baby Mine, 


• 152 



(iii) 



IV 



CONTENTS. 



The Hero of Chancellorsville, 




155 


A Nation's Loss, 




157 


Devotion, 




158 


Lines Dedicated to Independence Hall, . 




161 


Dedicated to Mother, .... 




163 


Ode to Philadelphia, .... 




165 


The Nation's Dead, .... 




167 


War, the Ruthless Arbiter, 


. 


169 


The Solicitude of Love, 




171 


An Irish Greeting, .... 




172 


Retrospect, 




173 


Baby Fashion, 




175 


Age's Regret, 




176 


The Orphan's Dream, .... 




178 


The Blind Boy's Story, .... 




181 


Constancy, 




183 


Lines on Admiral Dewey, 




185 


The Little Christian's Death on New Year's 


Morn, . 


186 


Good-Bye, Old Bike, .... 




188 


Inception of Love, .... 




190 



PREFACE. 



THE subjoined poem is a poetical narrative by a 
young friend, a companion, whom I was fortunate 
in meeting in one of the rural districts situate in the 
middle counties of England. Being at that time in 
quest of places having historical connections, or other- 
wise replete with traditional importance, I was but too 
eager to take advantage of my young friend as guide on 

his invitation to visit the Forest of S , where, as he 

described, we found a cave or grotto-like structure that 
saliently raised its jagged head of stone. Deep in the 
density of the forest, yet strange, this cave was environed 
even in the midst of that luxuriant place by a circular 
track or terrace of soil exhibiting a sterility surprising — 
so bare, so barren, that not one vestige of anything per- 
taining to botanical life seemed manifest there. "This," 
my friend explained, " was what was known as * The Cave 
of the Sorceress.' " Becoming interested in the place 
and its weirdness, I importuned my companion to relate 
to me such of its history as he was conversant with. At 
my solicitation he replied in the affirmative, but cau- 
tioned as to my tolerance, as the story, he said, con- 
nected with the cave was of considerable length, but 
assured me that it bore many items of interest which he 
felt confident would furnish me with food for thought. 
** Years ago," he said — '' in fact as far back as the reign 
of the Eighth Harry — when in the earlier portion of his 



6 PREFACE. 

rule at that time, his consort being Catherine of Arra- 
gon, the credentials of Spanish nativity were themselves 
sufficient to assure an introduction into the baronial halls 
or mansions of Merry England. 

" As tradition tells," he continued, ** there came at that 
period to take up her abode in that cave a woman, pre- 
sumably of alien birth, from the manner of her attire, ar- 
rayed, as she was, in the picturesque robes of an Orien- 
tal maid. Save but to one were her features concealed. 
Ere she had been the setting of many suns a resident of 
that isolated and cheerless abode, which, to the people of 
that day, was known as the ' Druids' Shrine,' but has 
since changed its appellation to the ' Sorceress's Cave,' 
by the tragic events that followed her period of stay, and 
the story connected with the scenes enacted within its 
austere interior, the rumor was rapidly spread — though 
at that early date, when we consider, must have indeed 
been slow, as news was but verbally transmitted — the 
statement was mooted among the people of the dis- 
trict that the woman, beautiful to a remarkable degree, 
was possessed of wonderful powers ; such only as were 
thought to be possessed by magicians or persons having 
preternatural gifts, was there to be consulted by such as 
were eager to avail themselves of the opportunity to 
have their future state in life laid bare. At that time," 
my friend added, ** a youth, the son of Geffory Morrell, 
was the affianced suitor for the hand of Ealien de Ne- 
ville, and, as was supposed by the members of the re- 
spective families, to be on the eve of their betrothal, 
when, through something inexplicable at that time, an 
interdiction was placed on the appearance of this youth 



PREFACE. 7 

at Rufus Hall, the home of her father, the Baron de 
Neville." 

Chroniclers of the affair, my friend rejoined, in an- 
swer to my question as to the abrupt cessation of the 
good feeling existing between the families, that the evil 
influences bringing about the disruption were afterwards 
attributed to the machinations of the new-comer or beau- 
tiful Sorceress, when it was subsequently rumored that a 
collusion or secret understanding existed, as was then 
learned, between the Sorceress and one, a nobleman, a 
guest at the home of the baron-father o( Ealien, to whom 
the youth Len'ard Morrell had been paying suit, 
''And whom, pray," I inquired, ''was this stranger or 
recipient of their grace who should, in return, afford 
secret aid to an enemy of the Baron's daughter ?" 
"There," my youthful companion ejaculated, "was the 
secret. The guest of the Baron de Neville, as the his- 
tory of the affair records, was one purporting to be a 
scion of one of the noblest houses of Spain — a man of 
vast and unlimited knowledge, coupled with a versatility 
of character that made him a favorite with the aged 
Baron, who, dazzled by the stories of wealth possessed 
by the Count Orlander, the title by which he was 
known, immediately received him to the favor of his 
wealth-governed partiality." As we sat there alone, 
confronted by that rock-reared structure around which 
some devastating spirit must have circled, whose tread, 
like the blighting breath of some deadly plague, left bare 
its circumference as the sterile heart of some drought- 
cursed desert. Yet beyond the limits of that barren 
patch Nature seemed to have clothed with her bounteous 



8 PREFACE. 

hand the forest with an extreme abundance of vernal 
decorations. Around, above, the stately monarchs 
seemed to bow their leaf-crowned heads in token of 
gratitude to the gentle breeze that now and again combed 
out with its passing breath their shaggy brows of green, 
while beneath their knotty limbs, like sylvan octopuses, 
bore aloft their fettered arches of pulsating leafage, that 
nestled securely in each leaf-girthed bower the varie- 
gated families of songsters, whose members, emitting 
their caroling notes that seemed to blend in a beautiful 
madrigal of symphonious song, 

*' Such as Orpheus must have known, 
That first inspired his lyre to tone," 

each vibrating note rising, swelling, trembling, now roll- 
ing away in waves of limpid melody till their echo re- 
verberates, to be answered by a chorus of musical 
throats till the interwoven leaves that canopied the sur- 
rounding seemed to control, to imprison within that 
sylvan sphere the symphony of its feathered orchestra — 
so lost in contemplating Nature, its beauties, the marvel- 
lous handiwork of the Omnipotent designer, whose care 
was visible 

"E'en in the blade of grass, as in the giant oak — 
All things to him divine, his loving care bespoke." 

So wrapt, indeed, had I been that I but now noticed 
the look of annoyance that swept across my friend's 
face at my seeming disinterestedness in the story he was 
recounting. Eager to repair or make reparation for this 
inattention on my part, I hastened to express my regret 



PREFACE. 9 

for the unwarranted indifference. Ere I could proceed 
further his keenness forestalled my intention. ** Nay ! 
nay !" exclaimed he, whose name I had learned was 
Henry Beckwith ; ''what you have interpreted as a look 
of displeasure was but the expression of wonder as to 
what profundity of thought or what height of fancy's 
dream, my friend, your mind was traversing during 
those moments of reverie." ** Yes, I replied, — 

' ' They who the works of God admire 
Pray in their gratified desire." 

** Poetry !" he exclaimed; "but of such an order," 
speaking, at the same time with a smile to palliate my 
injured feelings, that the Muses in the shadow of Par- 
nassus and Mount Aganippe must beat the air in fran- 
tic madness at this burlesquing of these sacred gifts. "My 
friend," I interposed, by way of correcting his levity : 

"Men their language may adorn, 
But, sir, a poet must be born." 

My friend laughed so heartily at my apparently cha- 
grined feelings that I replied, good-naturedly : 

" A laugh is oft the silent thief 

That steals the bitter pangs from grief." 

To this my friend responded : 

* ' And merriment is oft the soul 
That drinks from care, fair pleasure's bowl." 

Now, indeed, came my opportunity to turn the shafts of 
ridicule. Forgetting for the time my mission there, I 



lO PREFACE. 

looked at my companion, who calmly awaited my an- 
swer. Seriously, as the condemned victim awaits his 
doom, I waited — paused, maliciously hoping to make 
the suspense more acute. My companion looked ap- 
pealingly towards me, as though he would plead for in- 
dulgence ; but no. What mercy can the criticised, the 
injured feelings of the aspiring poet know ? Had he 
not laughed — yea, sacrilegiously — at those supposedly 
beautiful thoughts that I had woven with the ethereal 
thread of fancy — that I had nourished, cherished, lest 
the elusive muse might abandon me ere I had completed 
the glittering robe that was to adorn the ideal of my 
brain-created metaphor ? No, no ; a terrible penalty 
must be exacted. Now was I whetting the keen edge 
of sarcasm, preparing to mutilate industriously this young 
man's presumptuous attempt to link his poetical incon- 
gruities — bowl and soul. Indeed, I were utterly unfit for 
the confidence of the divine muse did I not grow indig- 
nant ; unworthy child of hers — never ! Jealousy seemed 
to harness my soul with a fiery desire to walk through 
the inconsistencies of his expression ; yea, to furrow up 
with the plough of satire his beautifully left-out seeds of 
thought, necessary, yet perhaps as attractive by their 
absence. Now would I show this young man, who 
would wriggle in for poetical fame, the naked folly of 
his endeavor to soar to the golden realms where preside 
alone the immortals favored by the gods. But, alas, hesi- 
tation ! Ruin shadows the waiter, disappointment blasts 
with its seal delay ! How secretly I chuckled inwardly! 
All was prepared to launch forth in one grand denuncia- 
tion of Henry's effort to hold even for one moment com- 



PREFACE. 1 1 

munion with the muse of poetry. My friend's eyes 
briglitened with a mischievous twinkle. I was about to 
speak, but — woe ! — his words came hke an invulnerable 
shield that turned, shattered the darts I had so fondly 
dreamed would stagger his poetical aspirations. 

" They who to the muse aspire, 

Who know her not, nor yet her eyes, 
Are they alone who would desire 
The poet's gifts to criticise." 

There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as he 
gazed on me. Little did he know how his words had 
shattered the temple I had so fondly reared, that was to 
crush him into an insignificant attempter of rhyme. 
Alas for human dreams ! Foiled, I would still endeavor 
to show this newly-acquired friend of mine — 

" That not in rhyme can beauty live 
That fails the purest thoughts to give." 

** Henry," I replied, with candor, "your words do 
contain some small percentage of poetical genius ; but," 
I continued, with emphasis, "Nature designed artfully to 
create these rocks insensible to words." I looked to see 
the effect this satire had on my companion, to which he 
replied naively : 

' ' These rocks have not yet colder grown 
Than hearts impervious to a thrill, 
That love not when in rhyme alone 
The role of moral fancies fill." 

Finding my efforts futile to embarrass this young man, 
who was vain enough to imagine that he could convert 



12 PREFACE. 

even rocks into his abominable verse, the day well ad- 
vanced, I suggested he set poetry aside in the jewelled 
urn of inspiration and proceed to relate his tale of the 
Sorceress in the more common language of mortals. The 
day warm, the fragrance of the woodland flowers rising 
in waves of incense seemed, with their scented breath, to 
invite our prolonged stay. " Here," continued my friend, 
"villagers found their way to this cave, astounded by the 
stories of the witch's power, for such she was called by 
the simpler folks of that day ; so wrought were they by 
her ability to show the past and foretell the future that 
her fame became widespread. 

" Among those who sought her revelations was the 
youth Len^ard Morrell, and generally supposed future 
son-in-law of the Baron de Neville. That, as after events 
proved, was the inception that led to a terrible tragedy. 
From the night of the interview his manner, being, ac- 
tions, all became changed ; the erect bearing born in the 
consciousness of blooming manhood became the half- 
crouched, suspecting glide of the brain-racked horror- 
haunted victim of some fearful phantasy, as though each 
moment presented some terrible picture, leaving its un- 
happy victim no respite." **And why," I interposed, 
*' was it that this singular change took place in the life of 
the young Esquire, for such I conjecture he must have 
been." 

Here my friend's face turned towards mine for a mo- 
ment as if to intimate he was about to relate something 
momentous. As Henry's head turned from mine again 
my eyes instinctively followed the direction of his gaze. 
There, he spoke, as his finger pointed to the cave on the 



PREFACE. 13 

night of his interview with the Sorceress, was some 
frightful scene rev^ealed to him, the forewarning of a 
cruel tragedy, the prophecy " that he, Len'ard Morrell, 
would murder her, his affianced, on the eve of her wed- 
ding to another." So impressively had he repeated this 
portion of his story, so imbued seemed he with a sense 
of that awful tragedy that must have followed, that his 
glance lingered, evidently fascinated by his mastery over 
the details leading to the consummation of that night's 
scene. Drifting to a state of abstractedness, Henry, ob- 
viously forgetting my presence for the time, continued 
to scrutinize interestedly the cave. Can he, I mused, of 
esthetic proclivities, admiring Nature with vain effort to 
portray, as only embryo poets can, so far forget the 
allurements of Nature's beauty now as to allow his mind 
to ruminate on the weird scenes, the doubtless bloody 
deed, the culmination of that horror-haunted youth's 
frenzy — all leading to the enactment of that predicted 
tragedy ? There as we sat on the fallen limb of an adjacent 
oak, one sheared from the motherhead, probably, by the 
same phenomenon that blasted with its withering touch 
the space before us. I had there ample opportunity to 
study my friend. After gazing on that face intently, one 
remarkable for intellectual delineation, his brow the un- 
mistakable evidence of genius, whether dormant or cul- 
tivated — evidently cultivated in this student of the events 
connected with the cave and its dark history. Why this 
young man should descend into the distressing gossa- 
mer of that mediaeval event was something that compli- 
cated my erstwhile smooth-running thoughts. Deter- 
mined to draw my friend to a closer narration of the 



14 PREFACE. 

results that succeeded the prophecy and its ultimate 
effect on the mind of the youthful admirer of the Baron's 
daughter, I inquired if some motive ulterior from the 
arts she professed to be mistress of had prompted the 
disclosure of that scene that afterwards proved so disas- 
trous to the hopes of the youthful lover, '' Few," he 
exclaimed, " ever learned the secrets of the woman's 
life." The termination of the fateful event was clouded 
in one of those shrouds of mystery that so often her- 
metically seal the lips of all involved. But, nevertheless, 
sufficient of the story leaked to the outer world to con- 
nect the youth's earlier life in a love affair with this after- 
wards notorious woman. ** So," I repeated, ere my 
friend could proceed with his narrative, "this woman 
sought by her arts to achieve the annihilation of this 
youth's happiness by foreshadowing his commission of a 
crime so foully inhuman, and all, my friend, for the ap- 
peasement of the basest passion that Nature left its un- 
fortunate children afflicted with. " *' Not that alone," 
he spoke in reply, " but to blast the life, the honor, the 
fame ; to pervert the being of one whose only fault was 
to possess the love she conceived had once been hers." 
'* How, pray," I asked, " was she to accomplish this per- 
nicious task without detection, by at least some friend 
of her unfortunate victims?" '' By a scheme so craftily 
laid, so cunningly contrived, so opaque in its integral as 
to defy the comprehension of all unacquainted with the 
powers utilized by her to its consummation. The 
one received by the Baron as his guest," he explained, 
" was the accomplice of this woman. One pledged to 
secure by a power, then little understood, the realization 



PREFACE. 1 5 

of her cherished dream of revenge ; one who by the 
overmastering magnetism of his eyes was to subjugate 
the will of this hapless maiden, conforming it to his de- 
sire by what is now known as hypnotical influence, thus 
enabling the unscrupulous Spaniard to procreate in the 
Baron's daughter for himself the semblance of a new- 
born passion of love. So mad became the enslaved 
maiden's infatuation for him, so blind became her will 
to his purpose, inciting her in that enthralled hallucina- 
tion to plead with the Baron for his consent to their 
betrothal. The prophecy — Ealien's desertion of Len^- 
ard — the scandalous stories of her shameless amorous- 
ness for this stranger reaching his ears through the 
mooted criticisms of the gossips — pointed with terrible 
significance to his perpetration of this crime by a decree 
of fate. Thus the unfortunate youth lived, haunted by the 
shadow of her cruel prophecy, and the inevitable doom 
that seemed to await him." 

Deeply engrossed had I listened to each word, Henry 
quite as absorbed in the story he was telling, with the 
earnestness of one swayed by the emotion of his own 
depicting. How long we might have continued to sit 
on that disparted limb of the woodland aborigine had 
not the umbrageous mantle of waning day roused us to 
a knowledge of the fleeting hours, could scarce be gauged 
but by the interest taken both by the teller of and listener 
to this peculiar story. As my friend commented on the 
lateness of the day and the necessity of our adjournment 
from the forest, the thought arose deprecatingly that 
from the theatre of its action the story would be un- 
prolific of interest ; but, alas ! how little was my estimation 



1 6 PREFACE. 

of this my new-found friend, who, on leaving the forest, 
promised to continue the narrative, giving expression to 
thoughts which, if not classed as philosophical, must at 
least by me be dubbed as sensible. " You see," remarked 
he, as we wended our way through the labyrinth of circuit- 
ous paths leading from its depths, ** a third character, bear- 
ing the name of Francois, acting as esquire to this as- 
sumed Count, made possible the nefarious scheme of Zandi 
the Sorceress, the name it was afterwards learned she 
was called by her complots in that inhuman conspiracy." 
''What could," I interjected, *' have prompted him to a 
participation in a plot so diabolical ?" *' It was," replied 
Henry, '' to win the hand of this notorious woman, when 
he, cognizant of her pledged affections to his master, 
sought by an abject subserviency to her will to replace 
that love by her esteem for his menial conformity to 
every wish that seemed to gratify her cherished dream 
of revenge." *' Ah, Henry !" I murmured, " how regret- 
table that man should grow so base, forgetting the divine 
mandate of charity, prostituting heaven's noblest gift, 
seeking to win affections by methods frustrating the 
design of the Creator." '' Yes," exclaimed Henry, look- 
ing around admiringly at nature, and speaking as if to 
himself: 

" O ! human kind — how less of toil, 
Of harassed fears— of ceaseless care — 
Might we of life its grief despoil 
Did mortals less of hatred bear. ' ' 

At this resumption of his poetical phrases I halted and 
gazed at him with an ostensible look of annoyance, yet 
inwardly recognizing some merit in his smattering of 



PREFACE. ly 

poetry. The spot where I stood, as my companion smiled 
genially, opened before us a scene refreshing in beauty 
from the homogeneousness one encounters from a sojourn 
in the forest, the parting sun bathing in its mellowest 
light the landscape, as here and there the whitewashed 
cottages, studding the scenery, resembled the home-com- 
ing at eve of a dismantled fleet of snowy caravels, the 
waving fields of tall grass giving each the semblance of 
motion. ''Who would have thought," interposed my 
young friend, noting my look of wonder at the beautiful 
scene spread before us, " that these scenes could have 
been the theatre of such dark machinations." '' And yet," 
I replied, *' you, whose mind soars to the realms of fancy, 
can dwell, ponder, yea ! abide in the history of that dark 
tragedy." ** Yes," he answered in exultant tones, " I, who 
have studied sedulously its details, learned through 
chroniclers the unfortunate youth's story, and the inci- 
dents leading to the eve of his sweetheart's appointed 
wedding to the assumed Count, the night foretold in 
prophecy by the Sorceress should witness her murder by 
the hapless lover, shall endeavor to relate in the vein of 
a poet's verse, * The Story of Ealien and Len'ard ; or, 
the Shadow of a Prophecy.' " What commiseration I 
felt for this presumptuous youth, as he finished speak- 
ing, my features were loath to manifest ; what poetical 
dissertation could my friend furnish on such a theme ? 
Still, anxious to hear the story and test my companion's 
talents, I determined to reserve my judgment for the 
present. Leaving Henry for the evening, I repaired to 
the hostelry of which I was a guest. By appointment we 
were to meet the following morning, when I in company 



i8 



PREFACE. 



with him was to visit the scenes incidental to his story. 
True to agreement my friend appeared, when, repairing 
to the trysting place, he began by recounting the story 



of the lovers' meeting. 




EflLlEN AND LENARD; 



OR, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 



THE LOVERS' MEETING-AFTER THE PROPHECY, 

Out in the solitude at eve we stood, 

While down its opal'd wave the moon's soft flood 

Upon her golden hair its silver sheen 

With halo crowned her brow, so calm, serene. 

I stood enraptured, charmed, like one entranced. 

On Ealien looked, to smiUng steal a glance ; 

And though the very calm was sacred now, 

I saw, enthroned on that bewitching brow, 

The mirror'd picture of a thought's sweet birth — 

One from the heavenly clime exiled to earth. 

That in her unsophisticated mind 

Found rest in her where love my eyes divined. 

That look, that glance, her very soul expressed 

That I, my dream of hope, her love possessed. 

Soft as the morning lights the eastern sky. 

And yields the gloom to nature's waking eye, 

As o'er the sable form of vanquished night 

Aurora, triumphed, waves her shield of light, 



20 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

So o'er my soul, like waking beams of morn, 
Her look brought hope, new aspirations born, 
Wherein, like night, had ruled the soul's despair, 
Now wakes to find new hope, the victor, there. 
Like one less fearful that the morrow's light 
Would seal this as Utopian dreams of night, 
I clutched her hand as though the very grasp 
Would link her soul to mine in deathless clasp. 
Ealien seemed pained to see my dread, my fear. 
Could I but doubt, she thought, her love sincere. 
If fear thy stern, grim visage, foe of hope. 
Could read where guides my love, 'yond horoscope. 
That silver tenor would, she spoke, but show 
That fears like thine, Lenard, but groundless grow. 

"Then pledge we, Ealien," he, eager, cried, 
"That none but I shall claim thee as a bride." 

" What new abortive dread now racks thy mind 
To deem but faithful thou, Ealien, should find ? 
Has love with thee at length omnivorous grown 
That rankling thoughts of doubt its flames have sown,. 
That mocks thy fears, as though impending doom 
From out the hypothesis of fancies loom. 
And darkened like the shades o'er summer skies, 
As if some faded hour thy hope defies ? 
Have not my pledge, my vows, to thee oft told 
That thou, and thou alone, my heart could hold ? 
I saw thy look, Lenard, in that brief space 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 2 I 

While yet I spoke, of budding hopes give trace ; 
But transient as the Hghtning flashes' gleam 
Thy aspect changed like some dark, morbid dream 
That holds within its realms, where demons lurk, 
Some dark suspicion's foul, unholy work." 

" Ealien, could thou my hidden fears divine, 
'Twere pity, not reproach, for me were thine. 
Each hope of love within thy smiles did bask, 
Not deeming that a soul so fair could mask ; 
And yet the heavenly myriads, fairer, fell, 
Where pride had masked in heaven, to make a hell. 
If from beneath the obfuscated veil 
That hides, Ealien, the future's untold tale, 
I could, despairing, here a scene impart. 
As shown to me by necromancer's art. 
Yet no ; reluctant now would I disturb, 
Or by prophetic fears thy mind perturb. 
Within thy face, Ealien, no look portends 
The deep, designing craft that, subtle, lends 
When treachery the unsuspecting soul 
Would lead to blighted love's despairing goal." 

As my friend had told of the fears, the apprehension 
of that harassed soul, with the milder expostulation of 
Eahen at the groundless birth of, to her, unseeming sus- 
picion, I had noticed the palpable omission of interroga- 
tion by the lovers that might have led to the elucidation 
of the complexities that enveloped them. Thus feeling 



2 2 EA LIEN A ND LEX A RD. 

constrained to remind my friend of their lack of love-like 
tact, " that to me appeared to be one of the essentials of 
devoted courtship," — viz., a close questioning for and ex- 
amination of all looks, words and actions — and possessed 
with the inordinate inclination to disparage the poetical 
diction of my companion — " a task equally as simple to 
my mind " as the criticism of a Raphael by the painter 
of a barnyard fence. Thus I arranged my satire with 
due attention to the unsupported evidence of Lenard's 
suspicion, when Henry, obviously divining my intention, 
continued, exasperatingly. " You see, my friend," he 
remarked, " she being unconscious of anything leading 
to his suspicions, while doubt in his mind, being almost 
as destructive as conviction, prompted the erstwhile un- 
suspecting Lenard to relate something of the previous 
evening's adventure in the forest. 

LENARD'S STORY. 

'* Last eve, Ealien, while yet the moon was high 
With inadvertency my steps drew nigh, 
And found so dense a wild sequestered place, 
Where Luna's beam no kindly light could trace 
Within, so still its dark, enveloped gloom 
That hushed in breath the stillness of a tomb, 
Where, canopied, the hooded monarchs rise 
To hide, with leaf-locked arms, the starlit skies. 
The stillness reigned, as night's grim satyr there, 
Till plaintive sounds that mock the silent air — 
As, ruffled now, the bleak-eyed owl did gaze 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 23 

To challenge, with his cries, the devious ways 

That led me there, in that nocturnal hour, 

To break the calmness of his sylvan bower. 

Through night's monitions now my fears averse, 

To deeper in those strange, weird shades, traverse — 

Wherein of late have mortals gathered there. 

And filled with dismal sound the midnight air, 

With dark, unholy plots, in night's conclave 

To greet their priestess in her forest cave. 

And yet my mind, unwilling there to go, 

Some power, Ealien — yes, hidden — ruled me so, 

And urged my lagging steps, with unseen hand, 

To view alone the night's egregious band, 

And see the owner of such wondrous lore. 

As she, their priestess, as reputed, bore. 

Of her they say, though yet of youthful years. 

Her knowledge, deep, profound, surpass all seers ; 

That from the future's dark, unfathomed space. 

With keen prescience, her will its secrets trace. 

And picture to the mind, from unborn years, 

Hopes, dreams for some ; yet some, appalled with fears, 

Might well, aghast, gaze on its dreaded scene. 

No, no ; her pictures, Ealien, are no dreams." 

" Thy mind, Lenard, of her doth picture well ! 
Did she to thee some hidden secrets tell ?" 

" I did not say in council I conversed 
With her, they say, so deep in magic versed." 



24 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

'' Alas ! Lenard, thy Ealien reads the truth : 
This crafty wretch would seal in care thy youth, 
Within thy heart suspicion's discord set. 
Lenard, ill-starred the hour that ye have met. 
They say, in bygone years some bitter wrong 
Hath made her heart, by subtle passion, long 
With hate unceasing as the ocean's sweep, 
Till 'neath her wrong her vanquished foe shall sleep. 
And yet within the past she, fervent, might 
Have loved, Lenard, and known not love's requite, 
And springs of love, converted now to woe, 
Supply to hate where love was wont to flow." 

*' From whence didst thou of her this story glean, 
That one so potent could so wronged have been ? 
So blends thy sympathy for her with hate. 
As one conversant with her hapless fate." 

" Thy words imply, Ealien, that death alone 
Could expiate by him the wrong she's known. 
Each thought begets a scene that painful grows 
Of her I fain would o'er oblivion close. 
And banish from my mind that dreaded scene 
That I, as witness of her powers, have seen. 
If thou, Ealien, the future could divine. 
Thy love, in constancy, would cling to mine ; 
Thy heart to me, were all the world averse. 
Would cling, to break the future's destined curse, 
Each day, Ealien, where night and night despair, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 25 

Without thy love, Ealien, my Hfe to share. 

Were I so great, omnipotent, that all 

The countless sons of men obeyed my call. 

With all the pomp of earthly grandeur blessed — 

All, all were vain had I not thee possessed. 

Thou art to me the fruit of love's first dream, 

And yet to thee, my love, I constant deem 

Were all unworthy of a love so pure 

As thine, who would not chide, and yet endure 

These dark suspicions that my doubts betray 

Of fears I apprehend, yet dare not say. 

'Twere love to fear, should suitor seek thy hand 

Who fain with wealth my Ealien would command. 

Thou knowest well thy father's bitter hate — 

So deep, intent — hath grown to me of late. 

Should he but deem that meeting clandestine, 

Our love yet lived, he would perverse design 

And plan to frustrate our fondest hope — 

Futile with him his passion's zeal to cope. 

Thou knowest Ealien, frail, my eager chance 

Of thee immured by him to steal one glance. 

With doubts repelled, alone with thee I rest 

Each pure unsullied hope, within thy breast — 

That treasured there, when thou from me are hence — 

Shall plead for me with love's warm eloquence ; 

But yet like her, of whom thou didst relate. 

Can love, when once transmuted, turn to hate. 



26 E ALIEN AXD LENARD. 

Or that on which the eye deHghts to rest, 
Repugnant grow to wake hate's fiercest zest ? 
On thoughts Hke these, EaHen, I dare not dwell — 
O, would to thee my fears that I could tell ! 
This tongue, Ealien, uncurbed would promulgate 
The fears my mind would fain obliterate. 
From whom, Ealien, hast thou her story learned ? 
Is she of foreign birth, or one returned. 
That when the lapse of years hath glided o'er, 
With fell design seeks back her native shore?" 

** From one, Lenard, a stranger to our land. 
Whose brief sojourning here, I understand. 
Is dedicated, so he said, to find 
A future mistress, winsome, fair and kind ; 
Credentials, too, of merit that bore proof. 
Hath gained him ingress 'neath my father's roof; 
And now his boldness, Lenard, here presumes 
That manner born when confidence assumes 
That garb of self-reliance with proud air, 
'Gainst which formalities would hopeless dare 
To pit the austere champion of its right 
Anent the stranger's calm, imperious might. 
Thus such his traits that now he doth reside 
Within our home, an honored guest, beside 
Which none so well has ever favor found — 
His wealth, display, surprises all around 
And wins much favor in my father's eyes, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 2/ 

Whose lust for wealth, too blunt, cannot disguise. 
It grieves me sore to see him fawning grow, 
For one, Lenard, that we so little know." 

" From whence has this nomadic Crcesus came ? 
Hast thou, Ealien, yet learned the stranger's name? 
Or knowest thou aught of his previous life, 
Why he by such strange mission seeks a wife?" 

"In conversation he my father told 
His genealogy could boast of old 
Alliance with the Royal House of Spain, 
And held high place amidst its monarch's train. 
Enabled by his father's late demise. 
With independent right 'neath English skies 
To roam in quest of one whose traits could bind 
Her to his love by charms and grace entwined." 

'' Ealien, has he thee, too, so well impressed ? 
Or has he aught of love to thee confessed ?" 

" Why askest thou, Lenard ? Canst thou not trust 
My love in thee ? Or if, indeed, I must 
Admit, he has to me already spoken 
Of a beauteous land beyond the ocean, 
Where midst its groves his old ancestral pile 
Awaits the magic of a woman's smile." 

" And thou, Ealien, unto his tale gave ear ; 
Does wealth, euphonious, make his charms appear. 
That each and all should Hst while he may pour 
His tale of greatness to ye o'er and o'er?" 



28 E ALIEN AND LEXARD. 

" At thy solicitation I but spoke, 
I thought not, Lenard, hatred to convoke 
Against this man, when thou his name had sought, 
As though his very presence wrong had wrought. 
Could thou hold fear of this strange wanderer's chance ? 
As if my heart, beleaguered by a glance. 
Would yield its keys to each impassioned gaze ; 
To each soft wooing smile its portals raise ? 
Nay, nay, Lenard, I tell thee now not so ; 
Could love within my breast so fickle grow 
Like the treasured shells from the ocean's shore, 
That, endearing, bear in their opaled core. 
And murmuring, cling with a subdued lay. 
And sing o'er again what the wild waves say. 
My heart, like to them, speaks ever of thee. 
And I list, Lenard, to its ecstasy ; 
But it murmurs now of a deep unrest 
That ominous grows within thy breast." 

** Ealien, my mind, indeed, has grown perturbed. 
Since of this occult stranger I have heard ; 
Whose presence thou hast said exasperates — 
Not that alone, to me, but desolates ! 
And lifts the sombre curtain of grim fear 
O'er all the dreams, Ealien, I held most dear. 
The first dread fact to bind to last night's scene, 
That lowers its dark repulsive form between ; 
I see again, as she has shown, that bed ; 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 29 

But no, its occupant is not yet dead ! 

Could I, that love thee, perpetrate this deed ? 

Ealien, I love thee far too well, indeed." 

" So strange, so wild, Lenard, th}- fancies grow — 
Confide in me, that I thy love may know. 
What fear, what dread, unhinges now thy brain ? 
Thou'rt fancies' slave to act as one insane ; 
What deed, Lenard, with all thy gentle soul, 
Did she depict as thine, that fears control 
And merge in harrowing form thy every thought ; 
Or has her dark invidious arts so wrought 
This horrid picture on thy once calm mind 
That peace or solace now it cannot find ? 
Tell me, Lenard, have we not loved for years ? 
Is not my love with thee, to calm thy fears. 
To neutralize the vaporings of a set 
Whose warnings naught but sorrow could beget; 
Who claim to see within the womb of time 
Each unenacted scene, each deed, each crime ? 
How simple we that deed to frustrate ! 
Since she the future did prognosticate. 
And guard against the evils of that day. 
Since premonitions mark where pitfalls lay." 

" Ealien, thy words with reassurance ring ; 
My soul from dark despair on hope's bright wing 
Soars far above the dolorous isle of fear. 
To find thy constancy as ever dear. 



30 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

Panoplied by thy firm love I'll try 
To combat fears, Ealien, should they draw nigh. 
What carest I what all their arts forecast ! 
Thy love is mine and pledged unto the last." 

**Tell me, Lenard, if some repugnant sight 
Were witnessed in thy wanderings there last night ? 
To whom couldst thou, if not to me, confide? 
To me, Lenard, thy own, thy promised bride ; 
Whose counsels might, with prudence, mitigate, 
And with its eager love alleviate 
Each sorrow that within thy mind doth dwell, 
If thou couldst but the scenes of last night tell." 

" When through the shoals that now infest our way 
Our bark hath passed, and havens lay 
To harbor in that fair, hymeneal clime, 
With every hope fulfilled and thou art mine, 
Unto thy listening ears, Ealien, I'll tell 
Of these grave fears that now are wont to dwell ; 
But not till then dare I to thee recite 
The fearful scenes, the warnings of last night." 

'* Lenard, with thee in patience will I bear, 
Till time ejects and banishes thy care ; 
With love's sweet solace back thy thoughts beguile, 
And win again my own Lenard's true smile. 
My father's interdiction cannot last. 
The storm to beat the wildest soon is past. 
His anger will subside to thy fair name, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 3 1 

It but took birth since this strange noble came. 

I know not why, Lenard, but in his eyes 

Lurks some dark power those orbs will not disguise ; 

Betimes, Lenard, I fear their searching gleam — 

Their lucent light, at times, seems lulled to dream 

Of things abstruse that reasons mystify — 

Then rests alone on me that waking eye. 

His manner, though, is courteous and urbane, 

His suavity is so charming as to gain 

The envy of our less accomplished friends. 

Who lack the grace that he to culture lends. 

Yet, though he does these noble traits possess, 

Of him I hold mistrust, I do confess. 

My father with his wealth his manners charmed. 

Of all, but deep respect hath been disarmed. 

But in those keen, unfathomed, Argus eyes 

Some latent mysteries hid, and subtle lies. 

Of him, Lenard, no jealous thoughts should rise, 

My loathing of this man makes no disguise." 

'* By title how is this patrician known. 
Who in thy father's eyes such grace could own ?" 

** As Count Orlander, he is such addressed 
By they who seek my father's favored guest. 
And since his advent to our once staid place, 
Our home of naught but festive scenes gives trace : 
My heart grows sad amidst its joyous air, 
To know, my own Lenard, thou art not there. 



32 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

They know not that my heart, unreconciled, 
Sees only joy when thou, Lenard, hast smiled." 

" Has he, Ealien — this stranger — sought thy hand, 
Whose wealth thy father's favor would command ? 
I realize thy father's greed for gold — 
Too oft have I of this, his passion, told ; 
I know his fawning, sycophantic ways. 
He sees his Mecca where its glitter lays : 
On Mammon's altar would he sacrifice 
To greed, Ealien, the jewel he should prize. 
Oh, wealth ! the dark perverter of our race, 
Thy slimy toils on every hand give trace — 
Thou immolator of each pure desire, 
That dies unhallowed on thy altar's fire." 

'* Lenard, remember he of whom you speak 
Would not for me, at least, misfortune seek ; 
I know a daughter's love — as such I claim 
The reverence due my father's sacred name. 
Would not his heart, that loves me well, repine 
To see the clouds of sorrow ever mine ? 
You wrong him, Lenard, now, to judge him so. 
Though much he's wronged thee by his hate, I know : 
I know with time his anger will relent. 
And of asperity to thee repent. 
His feelings, acrimonious yet to thee. 
Seem fraught, whene'er he speaks with irony. 
Time modifies ; his anger will assuage. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 33 

When gentle thoughts come steahng to engage, 

And transport back again to bygone years 

To one, once loved, whose voice again he hears. 

That pleads to him in soft angelic tone — 

* For we, whose love is ardent as their own ' — 

Their union proved a bliss from heaven sent — 

Should he but dream of this he would relent." 

" Ealien, why should he now vindictive be 
To nurse his contumacious hate for me?" 

'' Thou didst no wrong, Lenard, whereof I knew, 
He might believe what gossips say be true 
That years ago, when thou, perhaps, had grown 
To think but lightly of its wild seeds sown. 
Regarding then each deed within the day, 
That night, succeeding, chased its thoughts away. 
No weighty matters then of grave import 
Had on thy youthful mind its sequence wrought ; 
Then, every hour, as sunbeams on the wave. 
But lived to greet the swelling hopes it gave. 
They say thy name was linked with one so fair. 
That Venus lacked the charms assembled there ; 
Of humble birth, meantime of spirit proud. 
With graces of a Dryad's queen endowed, 
That thou wert wont to bask within her smile ; 
And she, construing it to love the while, — 
Though unsuspecting thee of misfeasance, — 
She knew not then how hopeless was her chance 



34 E ALIEN AND LEXAED. 

To wed with one so far beyond her sphere. 

In ignorance of this, her love grew dear, 

Impulsive, passioned, as the stream whose breast 

Chafes fiercely at its form, by bounds caressed ; 

Whose sinuous arms its turbulence confine. 

Her intense love would burst all bounds to thine. 

That when of thy duplicity she learned, 

This liaison unenvied scandal earned, 

That she, distracted in her love to find 

That thou, between such spheres, wert not inclined 

To trammel with the love she bore to thee 

In misalliance wed with her degree. 

They say her heart was rent, her grief so wild, 

To hear her once respected name reviled ; 

To feel how loathed, w^here once her spotless name — 

In honest deference could their homage claim 

Where once her matchless beauty reigned as queen — 

Her name became the foul traducer's theme ; 

No wonder then that, maddened, she had fled — 

And rumor, so they say, that she is dead." 

" No more of this black infamy I'll hear ! 
They lie, who'd fill thy breast with this grave fear. 
Who could unto thy father's ears unfold 
This fabricated tale that thou hast told?" 

•' I know not now from whence he got this creed 
He does give credence to its truth indeed ; 
And when unbridled by an angry spell, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 35 

Too eager is he then this tale to tell. 

But I, Lenard, with all my powers refute 

This deed, they would to thee, my love, impute ; 

I know, Lenard, thou couldst not guilty be 

To this commission of duplicity. 

They slander thee when they of thee speak so ; 

I did avo\v of this, thou didst not know — 

Hast thou not told me I was love's first dream ; 

The culprit's eye has not thy candid beam — 

How could I doubt thy love was wholly mine. 

Heaven but allows in virtue truth to shine ; 

No flower the vandal's hand by thee hath known, 

Or trusting maiden's lips call thee her own. 

'Twas solace now to hear thy lips deny 

The foul invidious tale that they would try 

To incense in my mind, in hopes to fear 

And make repulsive, thee, I love so dear. 

Lenard, for thy own Ealien's sake, to-night 

Let all thy fears give place to calm delight. 

If words of mine can cheer thy lonesome heart, 

Accept them — in the interim we must part. 

When somnolence hath claimed thy jaded eyes. 

May all for thee Elysian scenes arise, 

And extirpate each vestige of a dread 

That now, I know too well, pervades thy head. 

May Morpheus soothe thy sleep with tranquil smile. 

Thy Ealien's love shall live for thee the while 



2,6 EALTEN AND LENA RD. 

No angry father's scowl or loves profess 
Can make me dream of thee, Lenard, the less. 
By those bright orbs that festoon heaven's blue 
I swear ! none else shall share my love with you. 
Farewell ; and here again at eve I'll meet, 
With smiles of love, my own Lenard to greet." 
*' Adieu, may naught between us interfere ; 
If not, Ealien, again I'll meet thee here." 

Patiently had I listened to Henry's verbatim of Len- 
ard's story, w^hich, in contradistinction to his opening 
Canto, became more perplexing — perplexity invariably 
setting the seal of success on poetical aspirations if 
gauged by the standard of our established ideas. Con- 
gratulating him on the incomprehensibleness of the situa- 
tion surrounding the lovers ; assuring him that the mys- 
tification of Lenard's visit to the forest might well 
conduce to Ealien's inquiry as to his sanity ; when my 
poetical companion brought me to a concise terminus of 
effusions by explaining that the Count's appearance, co- 
inciding with the prediction of the Sorceress, created jus- 
tifiable reasons in Lenard's mind for his dread of that 
foreshadowed crime ; his fears augmented by the words 
of Ealien's song, sung by her that evening to allay his 
suspicions. Here Henry repeated the words impres- 
sively, and I, a martyr to his poetical whim, patiently 
listened : 

" I thought I saw thee in a dream, 
I saw thy form beside me bent ; 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 37 

In bliss I could but of thee deem, 

The joy thy love to me had sent ; 
But O ! I saw thy form grow dim, 

Thine eyes, reproaching me, in pain 
I called, and thought that thou wert lost, 

But woke to find thee mine again. 

" I thought I saw thy pleading hand 

Stretched forth, within that dream, to mine ; 
I saw thee in thy sorrow stand, 

And sought to place this hand in thine ; 
But O ! I saw an ocean vast 

Bear thee from me. I called in vain ; 
In grief I wept — that dream is past, 

And thou art by my side again." 

" Knowing, as you will, by Ealien's own words," he 
continued, " the mysterious Count had already made in- 
direct overtures by his blandishments, cogently assisted 
by the parsimonious favor of the Baron," Here I 
could not fail to remind Henry that the inexorableness 
of the irate father was a feature in contrast to the beau- 
tiful fidelity of the daughter, who, knowing nothing of 
the incubus that was haunting her lover's mind, gently 
chided him for his harsh invectives against her loving 
though at times furious father, feeling that I had there 
the opportunity of cutting in shreds, by my criticisms, 
the incompatibility of a sane young man allowing him- 
self to be urged by some unseen hand into the depth of 
that mediaeval forest ; when the young poet, surmising by 
my equivocal reference to the Baron and his daughter. 



38 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

that I would attempt to work in, as usual, some of my 
clever satirical thrusts, cut short the delectable dream, 
as before, by informing me that a second visit to the 
cave of the Sorceress and his narration of the events 
that transpired on the night of the Count's visit would 
relieve Lenard's story of the mysterious gossamer that 
now shrouded it. By this time the sun having reached 
its apex in the meridian, the invitation of Henry to re- 
visit the forest seemed to bring a sylvan-like sense of re- 
lief from the torrid focusing that relentless Sol was be- 
stowing on all failing to seek immunity from the effulgence 
of his gift. On our way thither I was about to question 
my companion regarding certain defects I had discovered 
in his poetical rendition, when, being blandly informed 
that after our visit to the forest as his guest I would find 
a sufficiently enlarged sphere wherein to satiate my 
whetted appetite for cavil, ere I could respond, Henry 
raised his hand as an injunction for silence, and com- 
menced as follows : 

THE FOREST CAVE— THE SORCERESS. 

In the deep recess of a wooded dell. 
Where its leafy robes luxuriant fell ; 
Undisturbed by all, save the fleeting hare 
That wakes with its rustle the stillness there ; 
Or far above where the oaks tower high 
To hide the vein in the Western sky, 
That tinge with gold the sun's soft setting light, 
Whose yellow robes precurse advancing night — 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 39 

Rings through its leafy dome the woodcock's cry 
To warn its absent mate that night is nigh ; 
To seek within those bowers a safe repose 
Ere the darkening shades o'er the forest close. 
Through the waning light of the day appears — 
In its midst, where rocks there clustering rears — 
Cold, cheerless, grim, to mar that fertile zone — 
As the Druids' shrine was a cave there known. 
Whose quaint surroundings like a page appears 
That reads from the past of forgotten years. 
And here, perchance, some keenly studious sage 
Had made its weird confines an hermitage ; 
Or some ascetic, from a world of care. 
Found there his lone retreat for silent prayer. 
In this cave-like cottage, whose jutting rocks 
Time fierce assails, their grim heads idly mocks. 
Within this strange abode now sat alone 
The outlines of a woman widely known, 
And one endowed with darkly-handsome face, 
Within whose faultless profile one could trace 
A look so restive, stern — foreboding ill ; — 
Whose deep-set gaze with awe beholders fill. 
Those potent orbs, whose corruscating gleam 
Hath spread her fame, and all her wondrous deem ; 
And simple folks, once skeptical around. 
Now marvel at her lore, so true have found 
Her keen research to fathom all their past, — 



40 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

And scenes now v^erified, her arts forecast — 

No doubting now, her powers to assail, 

So strangely on their minds her arts prevail. 

Amongst them none knew whence this creature came, 

Or yet hath gleamed this necromancer's name ; 

But nightly to her lone, barbaric home — 

When none but troubled minds are wont to roam — 

Who seeks this wild retreat through forest glade 

Is one whose heart with deference, visits paid ; 

To see her now within this lone exile 

His steps, again, bend to her domicile. 

He leaves the hall where all in silence sleep. 

With eager steps he seeks the forest deep — 

No dread, no fear, that those he leaves behind 

Will seek his couch, or yet his absence find. 

What deep import lies in this stealthy act. 

What scheme now binds their souls to this compact, 

That he should wend his steps when others sleep 

And she for him her arduous vigil keep ; 

Or why should he, the guest of Rufus Hall — 

The Count Orlander — on this creature call ? 

Suffice, she waits his steps with anxious care. 

As o'er her dark imperious brow an air 

Of anger sweeps — why tarries he behind ? 

Can he, too, solace in her presence find ; 

Can she, this Ealien, as some lily grown 

In nature's garden, every virtue own ; 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 4 1 

That 'neath the cadence of her blushless smile 
All rays of love, as sunshine, tarries while 
Each jealous mate, forlorn, with drooping head, 
Like I, forget, with hope forever fled ? 

Could I forget the past to bury deep 
The festering wounds that, tireless, never sleep ; 
That gnaw with cankering fangs this prostrate heart — 
The bleeding shrine his wrongs hath torn apart ? 
Rest on, Lenard, and deem thy blushing bride ! 
Love's captive thine, thy treasured hope beside ; 
Ferment thy mind with bridal scenes arrayed 
As though her plighted troth to thee were paid. 
That in the hour my vengeance seeks thy heart, 
My eyes may gloat to see it torn apart : 
To see its temple shattered, rent with grief. 
Of treasured hopes bereft, and I, the thief 
Yes I, Lenard, when I had vowed to take 
A stricken heart to seek that silent lake. 
From worldly scornings deep within its breast ; 
There, there, from grief alone, a bourne for rest. 
What pity grew for me, despised, alone, 
From thee for whom its hated wrongs were borne ; 
That form, thy thoughts, conceived within to lie 
Its cold lethean breast, has scorned to die. 
Yes ! maddened, duped — from all I loved disgraced — 
The witless slave to love was I debased : 
I knew not then that high or lowly birth 



42 E ALIEN ASD LEXARD. 

Held diverse spheres in this fair gift of earth. 
All castes inspired, from Eden's godhead's mould, 
Should here the baneful law of class behold, 
As though the forms begot by village swain 
Could not, with class, as pure a soul contain. 
So young to die, I waited, hoped, in vain — 
Yes, hoped that in his breast there might remain 
Some inner voice, like whisperings implore, 
For me he could with love, to joy, restore : 
But no, his haughty pride no word would speak 
To check the babbling tongues, who ever seek 
To goad with poignant cuts the feeling soul, 
Till pain exacts its bitter, deepest toll. 
His heart, steeled adamant unto my woes, 
Made in this breast each kinder feeling close — 
Abandoned, scorned, to that last sad appeal 
What sympathy did his cold heart reveal ? 
These cheeks now tinge to think with bitter shame 
That I invoked, in anguish sought to claim 
From those proud lips the pledge to make me wife, 
I sought but justice for an injured life — 
Those cruel words, with cold contumely. 
There dared to chide such bland simplicity. 
And laughed to say, within the village whirl. 
My love might recompense some village churl, 
Delighted, would, with me, his beauteous queen. 
Perchance, forget what I to him had been — 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 43 

And with requited love me compensate 

For blighted dreams, in love compassionate. 

Those lips that spoke love's wishes oft to me, 

And breathed its fervid breath so tenderly, 

To say that life no promised sweetness knew 

For him, could I be aught but ever true : 

And then despise with cold unfeeling scorn 

Because my rank was simple, lowly born. 

Dismayed ! I from his loathsome presence fled ; 

Yielding to where despairing spirits led, 

I deemed in death alone my breast might ease. 

The surging winds that stirr'd the nodding trees 

Like mocking demons waved their sombre plume, 

To goad my grief-racked soul on to its doom, 

Where maddened, frenzied, I, like one alone, 

Whose dimming light of hope at length had flown 

And sees beyond its shades but grim despair 

Where sorrow reaps through years its wearied care, 

I sought that lake, where oft we wandered by. 

Determined there within its shades to die. 

Upon its bank I halted, thought of thee, 

Of thee, Lenard, of thy base perfidy ; 

Love's dream was past, the spectre rose of hate. 

Fool ! I to deem for him — to immolate 

A life unsullied, save it loved too well 

To list when thy mendacious tongue would tell 

Of years that loomed in love, o'er time's calm tide. 



44 E ALIEN A XT) LEXARD. 

When I with thee should be thy rural bride. 

Thus vanished hopes illusive ; form and fate 

Seemed bitter there my grief to consummate. 

Deep as the grief the heaven-lost spirits bore 

That gazed their last on heaven's celestial shore 

As deep was mine, I saw the earth and then — 

Would I no more on nature gaze ; then when 

The home where childhood's fair first dreams arose, 

To me deemed sullied now, the angered close, 

For I the envied once of beauties there — 

The taunter had no kindly thought to spare. 

Resolved, unhallowed though, this irksome life 

For hate I'd live, engage, its bitter strife 

On night's dark footstool 'neath her jewelled dome. 

Yes, I the derelict, without a home — 

Hath sworn to curse thy steps, with shadowed hate 

Soon now thy cherished dream I'll frustrate. 

Of her Lenard thy love, thou'lt be bereft. 

Like me, thy guilty soul, with grief be cleft ; 

About thy life, the gossamer I weave 

To link suspicion and thy thoughts deceive 

And make like mine thy bosom racked with dread 

That scene — last night, thy fairest hopes have fled. 

I'll crush with scorn thy supercilious pride ! 

That dared the plebeian maiden's plea deride — 

I live to see thy vaunted pride brought low — 

The outcast then — now Zandi, strikes the blow ! 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 45 

Down — every thought, of old within this breast, 
Let vengeance add to hate, its fiercest zest ; 
Let fury reason now of pent-up wrong, 
\n callousness my woman's heart grows strong ; 
Where once the tide of love could permeate, 
Let freshets now add to its intense hate — 
That tireless still, this mind shall plot and scheme 
And make thy cursed downfall, now, my theme. 

She calmed her passion now ; the storm subdued. 
With deep concern the lonely cave she viewed. 
'Tis strange Barillo lags to-night behind ! 
Can apprehension fill with dread his mind ? 
To prompt delay forgetting now our truce 
Or grow beguiled when Ealien's smiles seduce. 
Beware, Barillo, mystic chief, I've known, 
Through all thy arts thy secrets are my own ; 
While steadfast thou in Zandi hast a friend. 
Deceptive all the crafts thy arts could lend 
Would thee forsake in Zandi's triumph hour 
To pit deceit, to my unfathomed power. 
What sound is that deep in the woods without ? 
" 'Tis he," I hear my own Barillo's shout ; 
Away with fear, I must with grace receive — 
Through him alone can I revenge achieve. 

Thrice welcome to this isolated shrine 
Where night surrounds with aspect saturnine ; 
'Tis prudent, too, we here alone should meet 



46 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

When thou, Orlander, seek my lone retreat. 

Her words addressed to one of handsome mien, 

Stalwart, erect, whose form bends now between 

The aperture, crude, rough, that served as door. 

His steps re-echo o'er its rocky floor, 

Her face hereto with passion's storm beset, 

Seems soothed, since her dark eyes the stranger's met. 

Apparelled with unstinted stamp of wealth. 

His swarthy visage bore the glow of health. 

The broad expansive brow, the wealth of hair, 

Spoke thought profound, the ruling factor there. 

With eyes that pierce to mock the carnal veils 

The inmost thought their deep research assails — 

As if within the temple of each mind 

His latent powers the servile child could find 

To marshal forth their will at his behest ; 

And reason, slave, fled at that light possessed, 

His manner, voice, all purport joy complete 

As stepping forth, Zandi, to eager greet, 

That creature, wildly beautiful to see 

Surrounded by that mystic dignity. 

And with a deference sacredly he stooped 

To kiss her hand as she with smiles rebuked. 

Thou'st tarried late, to-night, at Rufus Hall, 

My heart was troubled till I heard thee call. 

'* My queen," he spoke, " as o'er the trackless foam, 
The heart-sick mariner's fond dream of home 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 47 

Makes every thought an unseen tie to bind — 
Each long-forgotten word to echoing — find 
Within his breast on love's responsive chords 
The fondest dreams his yearning heart affords, 
And I, like they on life's uncertain sea 
Grow fonder in the interim of thee ; 
The clouds that hide the sunshine from the flower 
Rob them of hope, like me, each absent hour — 
That I debarred by this, thy stern decree, 
From love's requite, till craft and subtlety 
Shall weave within thy mesh thy hated foe, 
And she so helpless, too, shall feel the blow." 

''Thy heart," she sneered, " in fickle weakness grew,. 
Since her soft smile could thee so well subdue. 
Dids't thou not pledge to use thy potent art ? — 
I tell thee now, these two in life must part. 
Did I not pledge thee, too, that in return. 
The love thou sought this task alone could earn ; 
If from this pledge thy fears would be absolved. 
Alone, implacably I stand resolved 
To utilize the powers my arts have brought. 
Till o'er their ruined life is vengeance wrought ; 
If for my promised love the sacrifice 
Were all too vast, unworthy then the prize 
And all thy vows thy words repudiate ; 
'Tis fear, or love, now makes thee hesitate 
When I with woman's nature, cautious, weak. 



48 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

Would dare this deed — art thou afraid to speak, 
Or has the shadow of his anger thrown 
His retributive vow to cow thine own?" 

''To thee, Zandi, provoked, I would reply! 
The storm-burst of his hate I would defy ; 
This breast knows fear where cowards have no part — 
But here, Zandi, beats still a human heart. 
Why should this creature inoffensive feel 
The judgment on his wrongs, that thou wouldst deal? 
Away — I read thy thoughts — wouldst thou conceal 
From me the love thy heart has grown to feel ? 
When I had thought reluctance grew from fear — 
Too well I now discern, 'tis love's revere — 
For her, that makes thee cavil now to know^ 
That she thou'dst save shall feel the poignant blow. 
List, now, I tell thee ere thou saw this maid 
Not then of sequences wert thou afraid, 
Didst thou not swear naught could thy will deter, 
Not though its task imperilled, blighted her ; 
But since in her thou'st seen much to applaud, 
Of justice now, thou wouldst my wrongs defraud. 
Away — no love-sick maiden's heart I bear, 
But one with deep resolve, this task to dare. 
No hawk shall cross the vengeful eagle's flight 
Or dare its perils with the foe in sight ; 
And thou take heed, lest passion's fickle sway 
Prompts thee by subterfuge to bar my way !" 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 49 

As Zandi rose, the keen depths of her ire 
Were mirrored by her eyes that gleamed with fire ; 
Her bosom heaved, as if with tortured dread 
Her mind some picture of the future read. 

He met her glance with stern, unflinching eye, 
As calmly undisturbed as summer's sky ; 
" Have I," he spoke, "been aught but duty's slave? 
To thee, Zandi, each nightly call proof gave 
That I unboundedly thy will observed. 
And this, the gratitude my love deserved 
Small recompense to-night, from thee I hear, 
When harsh invectives jar my listening ear, 
When smiles devoted could but ill repay 
This exiled heart from thine, as light from day, 
Thou knowest well in this factitious part 
My love lies buried in my Zandi's heart. 
And yet thy taunts, unwarranted aver 
That I with love's design was shielding her. 
The hawk that balks the eagle from its prey 
Seeks not its rock-bound nest where perils lay. 
But warns its prey of that impending hour 
She poises fierce her talons to devour." 

'' Might not, Orlander, then the cry be found, 
Mistrusted as those warning notes resound?" 

"Thy words have such grave import that I glean 
Thou must, Zandi, Lenard or her have seen." 

" Love hath its sunshine, too, its fears to share, 



50 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

And thou, Orlander, of Lenard beware ; 

No idle word of mine could he construe 

To ill of thee, in that eve's interview. 

I seek alone, to challenge thy deceit 

In paths that perilous, make our retreat : 

Be firm with craft in thy allotted part, 

Thy recompense shall be thy Zandi's heart. 

Mark well — but false, and though the Stygian gloom 

Awaits my soul, that hour shall see thy doom. — 

Thou knowest well the terms there understood, 

My heart seeks not with appetite for blood, 

But vengeance deep, more hideous, mine shall be 

To blast their fairest hopes remorselessly. 

To darken sunshine o'er his devious way, 

With deadly hate his own base pride repay. 

And when that power, 

Of which thou art possessed, 
Shall fill with hallucinations Ealien's breast. 
When o'er her mind oblivion draws a veil. 
Upon her insane mind canst thou prevail. 
Make thou her love so fond, intense for thee — 
Let all that mad infatuation see 
Till scandal's wicked tongue with poisoned tip 
Reviles her deeds in shame on every lip. 
And simpering menials, at her fawning, sneer 
Till each invidious tale hath reached his ear ; 
When from the fount of bitterness each drink 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 5 I 

Shall lead his hopeless mind to that dread brink 
Of black despair, he to my youth consigned. 
In Zandi then, Orlander, thou shalt find 
A love for thee as boundless as the girth 
That bore Alcestus* on its wings from earth, 
When human thoughts to passion's conquest gave 
That dream of love, to live beyond the grave." 
'' Can thou Zandi — 

In whom the dead fruit lies 
Of love's first dream but lost, not realized — 
But once can love its maiden blossoms bear — 
And passion wakes to love's creation there." 

At this rejoinder through her wondrous eyes 
Stole a savage gleam, but that calm disguise 
Wore a veil of smiles, where that angry sweep 
Herald thoughts from her past, that never sleep. 

"Thou once wert wont for this same love to yearn, 
Wilt thou, Orlander, now its proffer spurn. 
And loathing, turn because thy heart inclines 
To sympathy for her, my love resigns, 
Forgetting when a branded outlaw then. 
For thy m)^sterious arts, from haunts of men, 
Was I to thy notorious name averse ? 
Did not my skill for thee with bounteous purse 
Supply thy need till from its life redeemed, 
Thy name, Orlander, grew with all esteemed. 

* Wife of Admetus (myth. ). 



52 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

To all — the Count Orlander — but to me, 

Barillo, priest of that weird mystery 

That subjugates to will the weaker minds. 

Thy secret art so often mortal finds 

To warp with unseen coil the stifled brain, 

And o'er its shattered reason fearless reign. 

But one more victim, she and thy disguise 

Of virtue, ill befits to sympathize 

For her sad fate, and vent this feigned disdain. 

When thou wouldst risk the treasure to retain. 

Deem not unwise, that I, in this exile, 

Remain lethargic whilst thy powers beguile. 

And weave with skill the soft deluding thread 

That fills in amorous scenes this EaHen's head. 

Beyond that sphere where vengeance will declare 

Shall satiate my wrongs, thou must not dare 

Alliance seek with her, and wedded try 

The power of Zandi's unseen hand defy. 

Mark thee, Barillo, I with dread enjoin ! 

Hope not beyond my knowledge to purloin 

The day, the hour, when thou with her wouldst wed — ^ 

Yea, in that hour, thy form with blood grows red." 

" If thou canst see how all things terminate, 
And dread fruit grows from thy keen nourished hate, 
Tell me, Zandi, what doth the future bear, 
Should I, the hazard of this mission, dare ? 
That harrowing picture well thy mind hath read, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 53 

In crimson hue to thee this form grows red, 
That I have sworn no more again shall see 
The cursed intrigue of crime's iniquity." 

" Seek not that I the future should divine, 
Suffice, its omens mark success as thine. 
From out the deep Arcane of my lore, 
Barillo, thou shalt learn of me no more." 

'* Not till from thee the future I shall know, 
Would I imperilled in this intrigue go ! 
Tell me, can I the vengeful vows discard 
That come from this o'er-zealous youth, Lenard ; 
Might not some scion, angered of her race. 
Seek redress in my blood for her disgrace ? 

'Twere just, Zandi, 

Should I corrupt the fame 
Of that more honored than the fairest name. 
That all the glittering pomp of earth's display — 
Where Polar night to Solar's brightest ray — 
Beside the Nakur, pure chaste, possessed 
Where virtue's holy flame adorned their breast — 
And hell but seeks from here, the spirit lent. 
When down to dark Erebus gloom is sent 
The false despoiler of a woman's name, 
That flaunts o'er virtue's shrine — a woman's shame." 

"Thy words, Barillo, o'er the wrongs of yore, 

Bring back the weirdsome scene, the silent shore, 

The bitter vow, the future thou shalt know, 

4 



54 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

And thou, panoplied, may fearless go." 

As Zandi spoke and seized with hasty hand 
A vial (now her form rose sternly grand). 
One treasured with the odd impress of age 
That told its past o'er long forgotten page. 
Beneath the fitful rush's uncertain glare, 
Barillo, too absorbed a word to dare 
To break the calm, the stillness of the scene, 
The hour to him had come at last, to glean 
If fortune bore to him, and bounteous gave 
The future hopes that he Ealien might save. 

*' Save — that his heart, love's votary at her shrine, 
Might win her by conquest — yes, make her mine. 
If not o'er her, he thought, I can prevail, 
I will, with arts, her love at length assail." 

His keen eye meet her stern inquiring look, 
As Zandi's hand the slender vial took, 
And poising in her hand its crystal frame. 
Allowed each falling drop to seek the flame 
That from the smouldering fagots feebly crept. 
Her arms now o'er, in mystic motion swept ; 
The hour, the cave — could hell the scene compare, 
And she, as some lost spirit in despair 
That seeks the portals of some hidden shore 
And wildly to its inmates sad implore, 
" Come forth, ye spirits from that hidden clime 
Within whose vast unfathomed space, there time — 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 55 

Evolving from its mists — to ye, revealed 

Each unborn deed, its measured course will yield." 

Her voice rose now to almost frantic shriek, 

" Come forth at my command — your aid I seek !" 

Barillo, calm, unmoved by her weird cry, 
Now heard with dread a myriad's tongue reply, 
From every leaf the forest monarchs bore 
A thousand tongues in mad confusion pour — 
Their moanings reach his now affrighted ears ; 
Zandi beholds with cold disdain, his fears ; 
** Art thou afraid," she cried, *' to now behold 
The hidden future that my powers unfold ?" 

His eyes regain their cogent lustre now ; 
Transient as the lightning's flash, his brow 
Swept from its broad expanse the cloud of dread. 
Swift as the unthralled spirit leaves its dead. 
Her taunt, her words, his dauntless courage stung — 
Fiercely defiant now, his answer rung : 
" Show all the blackest arts by thee possessed. 
With howling demons here, thy cave invest 
Till these affrighted rocks from fear recoil. 
In trepidation at their dread turmoil — 
And frenzied all of life, the forest fly — 
Yet unperturbed will I thy hosts defy." 

** Thy courage well sustains ; thou then shalt see ! 
Behold, Barillo, thy futurity." 

The falling drops had caught the dying flames ; 



56 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

Again she calls by strange mysterious names — 
As smoke above the festooned pagan pyre, 
Barillo saw emerging from the fire 
The leaden wreaths that wrap in misty shroud 
And hides her form within the circling cloud. 
A voice amidst the wreathing temple speaks, 
*' What mortal in this clime from us now seeks 
To learn through thee where hidden secrets lay. 
Thou votaress at our shrine, we must obey." 

" Yea, I command, the future he would know, 
The after course that comes ye spirits show. 
That he may glean the success of our scheme 
Surpasses e'en Barillo's fondest dream." 

Amazed he stood ; Barillo's eye beheld 
A scene on which his gaze was fixed, impelled. 

*' 'Tis I," he shouts, so deeply wrapt, intent, 
So eager now his eyes were on it bent. 
He saw himself rest in a garden fair, 
And she, Ealien de Neville, too, was there ; 
Upon his knees her head, so fair, reclined. 
Her hands rest there, within his own entwined. 
Those lustrous eyes gaze anxious to his face ; 
He can upon his own love's passion trace. 
Her lips they move, he heard distinct the tone, 
" I am, Orlander, thine, and thine alone. 
My eyes reveal in love none else but thee, 
How soon, Orlander, may we wedded be?" 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 57 

His soul intent saw none but Ealien there, 
Unheeded now was Zandi's scowling glare, 
So deep engrossed, his passion made response : 
*' Ealien, my own, this heart can love but once ; 
For thee, Ealien, would I her arts defy — 
Relinquish thee, nay, sooner would I die ; 
For thee the blackest arts of hell I'd brave, 
Should I, in wedding thee, but find the grave." 
Roused from the scene as Zandi mocking laughed. 
He starts, blind fool, to Zandi's searching craft. 

'' Thou playest well," she hissed, *' the lover's part ! 
Thy words convey the feelings of thy heart." 

The picture vanished now as Zandi spoke. 
He looked to see the fast dispelling smoke 
That love revealed, he saw, but all too late ; 
Each word incurred, he deemed, her bitter hate. 

*' Zandi," he spoke, " see how with clever skill 
I can, while thine, the role of lover fill." 

''Take heed, Barillo, in this well-feigned zeal 
What thou portrayest now thy heart may feel. 
As o'er yon scene the mystic curtains fall. 
So must thy stay transpire at Rufus Hall ; 
Beyond that hour, mark well, 'tis understood 
The fates decn^e a scene, I see but blood. 
I know not why, Barillo, but 'tis true, 
I see the carmine robes in every view 
That clothe the hours shouldst thou, imperilled, stay. 



58 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

The night's fast fleeing past, thou must away. 
Till thou return'st these eyes shall watchful be, 
And I, Zandi, thy every deed shall see." 

'* Farewell, Zandi, thy love shall be the prize. 
For thee Barillo would all sacrifice." 

THE DUPE. 
He leaves. 

From out the shadows quickly loom 
A figure pale, bewildered, from the gloom. 
And scarce Barillo's parting words had died. 
At Zandi's call the figure stood beside 
And gazed on her with look 'twixt love and dread, 
Such as we gaze on those we love, when dead. 
She turns to him with deep deceptive sigh. 

*' Francois, he little knew that thou wert nigh, 
Thou'rt faithful more than kindness can requite. 
And I alone with none to love despite 
I can o'er all in triumph wave my power. 
And yet, Diana wearied of her bower. 
And sought on earth the sleeping shepherd's kiss 
To feel the rapture of that moment's bliss. 
Yea, as the flowers turn eager to the light, 
So could my soul that yearns for love to-night, 
Turn to a love that would my will obey, 
And for the prize chase humane thoughts away." 

Before Zandi he stands with awe impressed, 
A thousand thoughts surged madly through his breast. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 59 

" Another dupe enslaved to that fell smile — 
Fool, instrument to serve her vengeful wile." 

" Dare I but hope," he doubting murmurs now, 
And looked at Zandi's calm assuring brow, 
" That I thy slave may hope, yes dare to be. 
Aspirant for this love, so lone in thee?" 

The intense thought of passion now portrayed. 
As he with sacred reverence her surveyed. 
His furtive glance droops 'neath her potent eyes — 
He breathes, " Thou wouldst such love as mine despise." 

" Not so Frangois, shouldst thou me faithful serve, 
Thou mayest hope my love to yet deserve." 

" Bid me to task then, I, love's willing slave, 
For thee to win the verge of death would brave ; 
But hope to win thee sickens to despair 
When he, whom now I serve, thy love doth share." 

" Of his perfidious love thou must not speak, 
Mine hath he now abjured, Ealien's to seek. 
No, him I loathe, since he hath vainly tried 
His vows, for passion's whim, to cast aside. 
List thou, Francois, thou art his trusted friend. 
He does, I know, to thee his secrets lend ; 
I read in all where scheming secrets lie. 
But his dark orbs, yea baffle me, defy. 
If thou wouldst serve me well, seek not why I 
Strange plots should frame, when they I hate must die. 
Whom I should hate by thee must be abhorred 



6o EALIEN AND LENARD. 

If thou wouldst seek from me love's just reward, 
Feign methods simple, till thy guileness lures 
From him each thought thy craft to me secures. 
When thou for me his hopes shall frustrate, 
Then shall my hand thy efforts compensate." 

He stooped to kiss the hand that Zandi gave — 
*' I am, he breathes, from this thy willing slave ;" 

And gazing on that strange clad form, his eyes 
Beamed forth their hopes as she, with warmth, replies : 
" Who here at morn would Zandi's counsels seek. 
Shall find herein but echo's tongue to speak. 
But thou, Fran9ois, of me need have no fear, 
Zandi to Rufus Hall shall linger near. 
The time may briefly span ere I thy aid 
Shall seek to test ere love's requite be paid." 

As Henry portrayed the inveiglement of FranQois, the 
dupe, to the dominating will of that mysterious woman 
in the reprehensibleness of his servitude, governed as it 
was by a love aspiring to one exerting such a vast influ- 
ence over his inferior mind, my thoughts converged to a 
sympathy for the unfortunate Francois, who, having wit- 
nessed the dreaded power of the Sorceress, undoubtedly 
fell an easy victim to her wiles. Henry, in rebuttal, rea- 
soning that the culpability of Francois arose from his 
willingness to destroy every noble instinct in his devo- 
tion to her virulent thirst for revenge, too evident, I re- 
plied : 

'Tis not the last, the first step to our fall, 
That compromits the end beyond recall. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 6 1 

In sauntering back over the scenes of the previous 
day in company with my young friend, with whom I 
was to spend the evening as guest, I persistently com- 
mented on the efforts of the Spanish Count to deceive 
the Sorceress, and the scene wherein she discovered his 
clandestine love for Ealien. Had he, Henry rejoined, 
openly attempted to eschew or retreat from the compact 
that governed her motives in seeking his aid, she would, 
doubtless, have disclosed the identity of the adventurer, 
destroying the hopes entertained by him as the noble 
guest and suitor for the hand of Ealien. Beyond this 
explanation Henry repelled my every effort to further 
discuss the scene in the case. Reaching a quaintly con- 
structed cottage on the environments of the village, 
pretty in uniqueness, fronted by a beautiful garden, ar- 
tistically arranged, ivy surmounting with a mural robe 
where morning-glories vainly strove to hide the anti- 
quated appearance of its walls : 

A home, I thought, as this must be, 
A refuge of felicity. 

Entering the portals realized amply my expectation of 
its delectability. A venerable lady greeted by Henry as 
mother, after a pleasant salutation, admitted us ; all my 
pent-up yearning to dissect the value of his story disap- 
peared in the presence of the beautiful girl " made 
known to me as Henry's sister" — Antisthenes confused 
in the presence of Venus — such were my feelings of 
admiration for her as to entirely obliterate every penum- 
bra from the perfection of Henry's poetical narrative. 



62 E A LIEN AND LENARD. 

Was he not the brother of this lovely girl — could imper- 
fection exist in anything she may have approved of? 
No, all seemed perfect. Cupid already winged his keen- 
est arrow to my erstwhile invulnerable heart. Eagerly 
I related to Margaret — such was this divine creature's 
name — the pleasure I had derived from my short ac- 
quaintance with her brother, and the unbounded satis- 
faction I had felt in listening to a descriptive poem he 
had in part related to me that day. Henry, with a smile, 
chided me for this dissimulation. After a pleasant tete-a- 
tete, during which the thraldom of infatuation for the 
young lady was weaving rapidly its gossamer of roseate 
bonds, repairing, at the suggestion of Henry, to a neatly- 
arranged parlor, the company consisting of the Beck- 
withs and a small coterie of invited friends, anxious to 
install myself, "for more than the consideration given a 
mere acquaintance," in the heart of Henry's sister, I 
pleaded with her in suavified terms to afford me the 
pleasure of hearing her sing, my young friend coupling 
his request with mine. Margaret blushingly promised 
to gratify my wish. Taking her place at the piano, her 
fingers nimbly chasing each other over the keys, she 
sang with pathos : 

O'er the lapse of time when storms 

Mar the beauty once sublime, 
Will the sinuous lilies form. 

Envy then a grace like thine. 
Will the lapse of years depart 

Leaving thee alone its trace — 
Thou'lt be then my own sweetheart, 

Ever still this lovincr face. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 63 

Years may shed its snow where now 

Tiara'd with an autumn gold, 
RippHng tresses kiss the brow « 

That I now so softly hold. 
Years may all thy charms dispart, 

Leaving naught of beauty's trace. 
Love shall see alone, sweetheart. 

Then, as now, a loving face. 

As the notes of Margaret's song ended my heart 
seemed gravitating closer and closer in its attachment to 
that fair creature. My musings were checked for the 
nonce by Henry's appeal to me to entertain the com- 
pany, remarking with a roguishness : 

That he, who well would criticise. 
Must of his talents first apprise. 

My eyes wandered to Margaret's, whose looks inexor- 
ably sustained his request. Seeing there was no aper- 
ture for escape I took my place as she arose from the 
piano, a martyr to another of my young friend's whims, 
rendering, as well as my poor voice would permit, a song 
of my own home, unapproachable in beauty, the peerless 
Schuylkill Valley : 

In a valley like an Eden, 

Beauty finding there her home. 
Through her fair labyrinths at even, 

Would I there delighted roam. 
Through its vale and sylph-like bowers. 

By the banks where Nature teems. 



64 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

With the richest of her dowers — 

Where the pleasant Schuylkill streams. 

There in loveliness abounding 

Lies a vale soft robed in green. 
Where the rocks above it frowning 

Guard the home of Nature's queen. 
There by stream and Arboretum, 

Where its gentle waters flow, 
There alone in beauty's welcome, 

Can this heart love's rapture know. 

As my fingers wandered inadvertently over the keys, 
Henry pithily reminded me that the fervor of my song 
was antithetical to the spirit of severity I had manifested 
in the disparagement of the poem he had so far re- 
peated to me. Here I turned to his lovely sister — she 
it was that to me spread the mantle of infallibility over 
the poetical aspirations of the brother. Had silence 
been golden my lack of criticism of Henry's talents, 
real or imaginary, that evening would have invested me 
with the marvelous touch of a Midas, my bridled tongue 
holding back its unsparing censure as 'neath the protec- 
tion of this modern Aphrodite. Presumptuous grew the 
assuming young poet, and I, a mendicant for her smiles, 
dared but submit a listener's ear to the eulogy lavished 
on him. Hoping to find some defect in his panoply, I 
appealed warmly to his mother, urging that Henry, to 
justify his claim, should improvise in her honor. Henry, 
by the incline of his head, intimated his willingness to 
her, who, seating herself by his side, allowed her hand to 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 65 

rest in the affectionate one of her son's, the mother and 
son presenting a picture defying portrayal in eloquence 
or color. i\ll the deficiencies of the young poet van- 
ished in the affectionate scene before me. Holding her 
hand tenderly within his own, Henry, to my surprise, 
extemporized the subjoined ode : 

This hand infirm, now trite and old, 

With a tremor — a legend of love untold, 

'Tis not in a theme of yesterday — 

But a story of years now passed away. 

This hand, with a tremor as now, 

With a maidenly smile was laid, 

To a gentle press in the kind caress 

Of a hand when her vow was paid ; 

But that maidenly hand again grew strong 

With the touch of love through the years that's fled, 

Yet the trembling hand now guides along 

Her bark when the helmsman of love is dead. 

The boatman still may guide her bark — 

With his love — as it drifts through the waning years. 

With a hand as strong, he leaves behind — 

Where the trembling helm of her love may find. 

In the succor her love had known — 

Through the years ere his love had flown. 

And another hand — of his lov^e a part — 

Shall guide his lost love's lonely heart, 

And brave for his sake, through the years the tide — 

Where her helmless bark o'er its sea is tossed. 

And her trembling hand shall know the guide 

Of the loved one left — for the loved one lost. 



66 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

At the conclusion of his soHcitous tribute of love to 
his mother, one of the guests, an elderly gentleman with 
a rudely-awakened expression of eye, enthusiastically 
bounded to his feet, clutched Henry feverishly by the 
hand, then began disgorging adulatory absurdities. Now 
this conduct to me appeared unpardonable — he having 
no beautiful sister to cast her protecting mantle around 
him, thus leaving bare his sycophantic heart to the cuts 
of my praise-scoffing tongue. This gentleman, after be- 
ing the recipient of several of my well-groomed and 
highly-charged invectives for his effusiveness, politely 
informed me that, to him, critics were always the object 
of his aversion — birds lacking plumage or song, flowers 
devoid of beauty or aroma, parasites usurping the song 
of the bird, devouring, mutilating, disfiguring the bud- 
ding plant ere its unfolding petals disclosed the beauty, 
the incense of its imprisoned breath. After receiving 
that gentleman's homily with a look of repentance, my 
meekness being the result of Margaret's look of disap- 
proval on my conduct, hoping to find a more expedient 
time to assail the gentleman with the startled expression, 
I postponed discussion on the merits or demerits of the 
young bard, the evening passing felicitously, each hour 
ripening into something more than admiration for the 
lovely and accomplished sister of my new friend. Scarce 
could I conceal from myself the spirit of appreciation of 
Henry's talents that was fastening itself upon me, as 
the following morning, after a cheery adieu, with the 
admonition against infrequent visits during my sojourn 
in the vicinity from Margaret, who had grown so dear 
in my brief acquaintance with her, and the genial Mrs. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 6/ 

Beckwith, the object of so much of Henry's affection, 
each standing in the doorway of the pretty cottage. 
As we repaired to what remained of Rufus Hall for the 
resumption of Henry's story, as we neared the grim 
remnant of that mediaeval structure, being in truth the 
relic of one of those baronial strongholds, whose but- 
tressed walls and frowning battlements yielded immunity 
to its lordly possessor in troublous times, the dungeons 
invariably serving as a mode of riddance from disquiet- 
ing or factious individuals in periods of peace, as w'e 
drew closer, noting the dilapidated condition of that once 
impressive structure, the thought forced the conclusion 
on me that : 

Mutation marks the regime of decay, 

And blending ages drifting to the goal — 

Of time's vast limit — when alone shall stay 
The flame that lives in man's immortal soul. 

There in a room of that fabric Henry began. 

RUFUS HALL— THE BEDCHAMBER— THE COUNT'S 
SOLILOQUY. 

The morning arose o'er the night passed by, 
And the sun with gold tinged the azure sky. 
From his weary couch Orlander arose 
With a fitful dream from his short repose. 
Ah ! deep, he murmured, hath this wrong impressed 
And mocked with hideous dream my futile rest ! 
Hath earth no place the guilty mind could seek 



68 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

Where that immortal spirit dare not speak, 
That men define as conscience, to remind 
And rack with hell-born scenes the guilty mind ? 
Within thy state, O sleep ! thou twin of death. 
Its unremitting light, with fiery breath. 
Reveals the horror of the culprit's sin. 
And, like some keen, omnivorous fire within. 
Consumes the peace that holier thoughts possessed, 
And haunts with spectred wrong the criminal's breast. 
The hours, so short in sleep, to me denied 
Could not the warnings of this spectre hide ; 
That silent judge, in Eden's fall ordained, 
• Hath o'er my sleep with fierce, bent visage reigned. 
Or could it be that Zandi's bitter threat 
Would in my sleep these fancied scenes beget ? 
Ah ! well might words like hers my thoughts confound, 
And with unbridled fears my breast surround. 
That cave — its hell-created scenes— her shriek, 
At whose command the unseen myriads speak. 
I hear as yet, that maddened, sullen roar. 
Like breakers wild that beat the lonesome shore. 
Well might I dream, appalled, this blood is cold. 
That I for her could once affection hold. 
So base, yet garbed in nature's choice attire, 
Her words, her look did once to love inspire. 
That temple, reared as beauty's hallowed fane, 
Naught can of love in woman's soul contain. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 69 

Hopes, blasted now, in hate have crystalHzed 

A heart I deemed were treasured to be prized ; 

But now, Zandi, the shadows deep between 

At last, Barillo, hath thy spirit seen. 

As ^olus breathes, when chilled his breath, at eve 

To blight each petaled throne, each flower bereave 

Of virgin tints where frozen zephyrs blow, 

Zandi seeks now in shame to blight her foe. 

Keen was her glance, her fierce, suspecting glare, 

When I, Zandi, forgot thy presence there. 

In passion's burst those words to Ealien strayed : 

Fool-tricked was I ; each word my love betrayed. 

Methinks 'tw^as from this thought that she displayed 

That amorous scene and love's avowal made, 

That love's spontaneity to such appeal 

Might symptoms of its hidden flame reveal. 

That phantom scene her arts conjur'd to lure 

The secret of that love I deemed secure 

That beamed with rarer hues when I alone, 

Through nights of doubt perceived its lustre shone. 

Yet I had hoped none might its life disclose 

Till I, by stealth, of Zandi might dispose ; 

But from those words — 

To Ealien she must feel 
'Twere meet in strategy, not love, to deal 
With me, since now that love hath ceased to thrill, 
That made me slave to her revengeful will. 



70 E ALIEN AND LEXABD. 

The truth dawns now why her duplicity 

Has sought to purport love unceasingly ; 

That I, cajoled by her delusiv^e smile, 

Might with my art this maiden's love beguile, 

And blight this creature's fair, unsullied name ; 

For her revenge a flower pollute, defame, 

That she may deal through her the poignant blow 

That wrecks the hopes of him, her hapless foe. 

In hate's reprisal, that he took not, too. 

Her love, forsooth, where he no passion knew ; 

And I alone who own the art to deal 

The power inscrutable Ealien must feel 

When I intrench with it her youthful mind. 

And o'er her will my own dominion find. 

And this, Zandi, thy plan, unceasing, sought — 

Thy every aim that I for this were brought ; 

That I this power would wield to thy design, 

Then claiming recompense, thy love as mine ; 

The price to blot with infamy and shame, 

And, sullied, garb with doubt this creature's name, 

For whom e'en now my breast with passions burn, 

And I to make her mine now fondly yearn, 

Like flowers at morn that raise their drooping head 

As from their form the night's chill dews have fled, 

And wake to kiss the sun's first beam of light. 

Now sadder hang with dew-drop' d head at night. 

And weep the loss, their joys that light had known 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. J\ 

As shadows dark lay now — his rays ha\'e flown — 

As that loved sun were Ealien's face to me, 

My hope to win, my aim's felicity, 

Her beaming face o'er me its radiance cast, 

But night must have no shadows, this no past. 

His face assumed a stern but pensive look. 

I must, Zandi, at last thy anger brook. 

She deems, in fear, that I her will obey, 

Lest she the secret of this scheme betray. 

This brain must work to baffle, now he said. 

I will of her dispose, then Ealien wed. 

Her prophecies as shadows but appear 

When to the light, from gloom, my hopes draw near. 

I will, Zandi, in truth thy will obey ; 

In amorous scenes she shall for me display 

Her love, as witless she, my powers can still 

Fill her with love by my o'ermastering will. 

Not to her shame for thee, but reared above 

This sacrifice — her I eternal love. 

My scheme redounds to baffle now thy fame, 

Who sought in hate's redress a woman's shame. 

Beware, Zandi ; Barillo's scheme now hath 

No shadows dark to cloud, but thee, his path. 

He starts to see — 

A shadowed form that lies 
Before him — now, a moment, vanished, flies. 
Swift as the shadow flits Orlander turns. 



72 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

No mortal there his anxious eye discerns ; 
Beyond the door Francois, in stealth, had passed ; 
His gliding form the fleeting shadow cast. 
Could that, Orlander murmured, fancy be 
That framed yon shadowed form's dark effigy? 
Or hath this spectre here my steps pursued 
Where falls my whispered tale in solitude. 
To weave, at her command, the hidden toil 
That would, to wed Ealien, my scheme yet foil? 
Curse her ! he hissed ; I will her arts defy 
And baffle, though her demon hosts were by. 
With hasty touch he wakes the tiny bell ; 
Soft, clear its note as weeping fountains tell, 
With silver tongue, where crystal pendants flow 
And leap to kiss the mirrored pool below. 

Scarce had his hand its silver echo woke, 
Prompt as the summoned genii, Francois spoke : 
'' I have, Senor, thy call now heard, and here. 
As one devoted to thy will appear." 
'* Thou art, indeed, a slave at duty's shrine. 
And I, Frangois, know well such worth as thine : 
Guileless, unshrewd, by candor bounteous blest — 
All merits these, and, too, by thee possessed." 

" Such praise, Senor, would but me more enslave 
To one who has to me distinction gave." 

*' Does yet, Frangois, the hall with life bestir?" 

'' It does, Senor ; I did but now confer 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 73 

With one without, and as we idle talked, 

Superb in beauty by his mistress walked." 

'' Did she, Francois, seem more than passing fair?" 
'' None have I seen, Sefior, that could compare." 
"As she ye passed did aught his words infer 

That I, as wooer here, in love sought her?" 

*' He did of thee in whispered tones comment, 

That thou to win her hand and wed were bent." 
" To thee, Francois, I will alone confide 

My hopes, my dream, to make Ealien my bride. 

And Zandi, she who with us hither came. 

Thou must, to serve me well, impeach her name. 

Of leagues infernal, here — where doubts abound — 

In whispered breath tell all a w^itch thou'st found. 

Till passions swell in breasts that dormant lie. 

She may, Frangois, amidst its vortex die. 

Her from my path," he hissed, '* none can deter 

When I with hidden power, enslaved, hold her. 

Ealien, Frangois, shall then be mine alone. 

Not to debase, but her as bride to own." 

*' Thy wish, Sefior, to me his wills concur. 

And Fran9ois now shall rid thy path of her." 

As Henry concluded his iteration of the Count's 
monologue and the simulation of Frangois in his proffer 
of compliance with the Count's scheme to win Ealien, 
first removing Zandi from his path, I began to feel a 
sense of repugnance for the name of that wretch who 



74 EALIEN AND LENABD. 

could so well dissimulate. As we had previously visited 
the trysting place, Henry enjoined me to listen to the 
story of Lenard's grief, his apprehension arising from 
the long absence of his sweetheart. 

THE TRYSTING PLACE. 

Night after night in vain I wait, 
Faithful yon jewelled orbs appear, 
The sighing winds compassionate. 
But her soft smile comes not to cheer. 
The fears that slept within my breast 
From apathy tumultuous grow. 
Through harrowed nights of doubt, no rest 
Till I, Ealien, of thee must know. 
Ye gems in yon empyrean crown ! 
That light the haloed brow of night, 
Should ye upon her path look down, 
Lead her, ye gems, back to my sight. 
Could virtue live if she, so fair. 
Who's pledged to me, here last we met, 
Could lull with smiles that angels bear — 
My fears, and then her vows forget. 
Yet, Hke a spectre to my mind 
Recurs this necromancer's tale. 
Each hour engrossed, to deeper find 
Those scenes depicted, me assail ; 
And fancies mockingly repair 



THE SHA DOW OF A PB OPHECY. J $ 

To that dread scene where EaHen lies ; 

Fool I, and maddened in despair, 

With brutal hands suppress her cries 

To murder her move not ye winds ! 

Your sightless wings this tale might steal, 

Ere echo back could now consign 

This awful secret I reveal. 

But no ! 'tis false, I dare not think 

She could to me perfidious grow ; 

Appalled, I from the thought would shrink, 

That hag's monitions brought me woe : 

Ye gods ! had I not seen her there. 

With powers none human could possess — 

Where shrieking legions fill'd the air 

Obedient to that Sorceress ; 

My mind could banish from its realms 

Her murdered form, ere she his bride — 

The thought that hourly overwhelms 

And haunts with spectre such, my side. 

Since that dark night of horror I 
Again, in vain, this creature sought — 
Since thou no longer comest nigh, 
To her, with grief and fear distraught 
To learn if they thee obviate. 
Or thou, self-willing, shuns my sight, 
While I with hopes expiring wait 
Thy advent here, my love, each night. 



^6 E A LIEN AND LENARD. 

Futile my search in forest, when 

This nocturn prophetess had fled — 

In that lone cave no denizen, 

Where she that night my future read. 

Could I but see her now, and she 

In mercy could this racked soul tell 

Unfounded, base, her prophecy — 

Ye gods ! this hour's dread fears dispel. 

That she by arts conjured that scene. 

That foul phantasmagorial rose 

That night, and swear 'twas false, Ealien 

Would not by me know death's keen throes. 

And yet, masked priestess, did not she 

Of him, this Count, to me reveal 

That Ealien would unblushingly 

Her love for him from me conceal ? 

He, favored guest, Ealien, not here — 

How strange — her dark monitions bear 

Their truth, since Ealien insincere, 

Seeks now, perchance, his love to share. 

But by yon stars ! by them she swore 

That I alone her love possessed : 

This heart shall cease and beat no more. 

Ere she shall couch another's breast. 

What ! am I mad to dream Ealien 
Could see love's smiles and I not nigh ? 
Could love's soft blushes hide unseen 



THE SHADO W OF A PROPHECY. 77 

And mask in smile's deceit her eye ? 
No, no, Ealien, these eyes must see 
Thy perfidy, thy guilt, ere I 
Who love thee deem but pure of thee ; 
Her hariolations I defy. 

" And they who would have proof must seek, 
The drone marks not as summer flies. 
The fairest flowers but fragrant keep, 
Where pure unsullied virtue lies." 

Each word in bitter tone came forth 
From out a clump adjacent by, 
Where towering elms cast o'er the earth 
Their shadows grim, like giants lie. 

Lenard, first startled by the tone, 
Grew furious now ; they had then heard 
Who back responded to his own, 
Each thought re-echoed — this inferred. 
Towards the brush with angry stride 
He rushed with poniard now in hand. 
Come forth ! he shouts, but cowards hide ; 
Fierce rang his words at my command. 
His face a startled look revealed 
To see the Sorceress standing there ; 
That figure now he knew, there veiled — 
Garbed she as Islam's daughters wear. 

" Why thus surprised, Lenard, and start 
As though uncalled I did appear ? 



yZ E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

I heard thee importune my art ; 
At thy request alone I am here." 

** What need to hide ?" Lenard repHed, 
" From thee who can all things discern, 
In vain through forest deep I've tried 
Of thee, mysterious one, to learn." 

** Why shouldst thou seek of me to speak ?- 
Time will to thee all things portray, 
And her of whom thou'd learn and seek 
My arts were loath now to betray." 

*' No innuendoes to my mind 
Illicit thoughts of her convey, 
Till proof, thou prophetess. I find ; 
My heart her love could not gainsay. 
Didst thou not say the idle drone. 
That garners not when summer flies. 
Neglects the treasure they would own, 
And vandals pillage virtue's prize ? 
These words, momentous, grave must be, 
To intimate that I, the drone, 
Who basks in thy analogy. 
Till she, Ealien, from me has flown. 
To thee w^hose dread research has told 
Of what is not, and yet to be. 
Who did this direful end unfold — 
Have I, strange mortal, friend in thee?" 

" Thou hast a friend in me to share. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 79 

And one to make thy deeds her own ; 

Mark well, Lenard, I will not spare 

To make thy feelings those Fz'c known." 

Unconscious of the scorpion's sting, 
Her hand, in gratitude, he grasped. 
** I w^ill thee to thy Ealien bring, 
Since thou, Lenard, my aid has asked." 

*' If she within its walls confined — 
Inveterate still her father's hate, 
How can we to her ingress find, 
Where bars our way its frowning gate ?" 

''Ask not of me, whose power can lead. 
No gates my entry there shall close. 
The hour now waxes late indeed, 
And thou, I know, impatient grows 
To see her eyes denote surprise, 
To see her bound with joy to greet 
And clasp thee, as her smothered cries 
In ecstasies thy name repeat." 

The night with balm soft kissed the breeze. 
From fragrant blushes, Flora slept, 
Like wearied Titans hung the trees 
To shadow' d sleep, whereon they stepped, 
That led, Lenard, O, who shall say ! 
With doubt or effervescent hope. 
To yon grim walls that would betray 
Her sin, or joy's fair portals ope. 



8o EALIEN AND LENARD. 

In strange companionship he strode 

O'er paths his feet were wont to tread 

When she, whom now he sought, he wooed. 

And beauty, passion's flame, had fed. 

As nearer loomed its walls in sight 

Her voice broke on his reverie — 

*' Illumed, Lenard, the hall to-night 

To me seems wrapt in festive glee ; 

Some banquet here, or knightly dance 

Makes merry mirth within its wall, 

And thus begets an easy chance 

For our admittance to its hall. 

Thou follow me, we must, concealed 

From prying eyes, still linger here. 

Subservient to the power I wield 

Aid shall, at my behest, appear. 

See, now comes one, yon figure there. 

To serve as ally in our need. 

To see thy Ealien, now prepare. 

And follow thou where I may lead." 

" How strange," mused Lenard, ''she should find 
Auxiliary within that hall — 
That some mysterious tie must bind 
To summon at her unheard call." 

THE GARDEN— THE SNARE. 
Back from the terrace Lenard stood 
Unseen by those who passed along 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 8 1 

And wondered why the evening should 

Converted be to fete and song. 

He knew there was not wont to be 

Those rehcs of a sumptuous grace ; 

This guise of prodigaHty 

Suits here but ill, De Neville's place, 

That they should honor, Lenard said, 

'Tis meet of whom, that thou shouldst know — 

Since they at thy command here led 

Would thee acquaint of, that I trow." 

" Move not, Lenard, this group draws near, 
Now deeper in the shadows turn ; 
And news, perchance, we then may hear, 
And thou of her, thy loved one, learn." 

From where he stood his eye could see 
Where stretched the green-robed sward around, 
And garnered in their rustic glee, 
The rural's joyous dance abound. 
These lawns so long neglected now 
Wake like a dream from Flora's bower. 
When Midas touched her sleeping brow. 
And gold-hued rose the primrose flower ; 
Still here where love might build its throne ! 
And close from care its raptured eyes, 
A dread, a fear, before unknown, 
Of some impending dangers rise. 

'* See now, Lenard, they nearer draw !" 



82 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

'Tis Hugh de Neville now that speaks ; 
*' And see, 'tis her — yes, there I saw ; 
Thy Ealien, now, this Spaniard seeks." 

With angry gesture now he turned — 
'' What meanest thou by him she seeks ? 
Thou dost but prattle, thou so learned, 
As one unwise, that witless speaks." 

Had he but seen beneath her mask. 
At his retort, her cunning lear — 
Hate deep, inveterate, there was cast 
That prompts her now bid him to hear. 
** Father !" the words " he is my choice " 
Reach Lenard's ears — his fears have flown ; 
" Hear thou, defamer, Ealien's voice ! 
Proclaims for me her love alone," 

*' Be calm, Lenard, they now confer. 
Thy hopes aspiring still rejoice — " 

Ignoring Zandi, wrapt in her. 
He hears again his loved one's voice. 
Father, none other shall me claim 
But him, she speaks, who now is nigh. 
**Then," Lenard whispered, 'Move's proclaim 
Tells her in truth, Lenard is by." 

My child, he hath but now arrived — 
De Neville spoke — to greet his name 
I have with wealth unstinted, tried 
To honor since to us he came. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 83 

'^ How, generous soul, have I misjudged — 
With imputations have I told 
Of selfish deeds thy greed adjudged, 
And deemed thee slave of Mammon's gold, 
But now I will myself reveal. 
And here De Neville's pardon seek, 
Since he for me can kindness feel — 
Long have I sought this hour to speak." 

With joy enraptured, uncontrolled, 
Lenard would rush, yea ! grasp his hand — 
** Be not," the Sorceress murmured, "bold ! 
Ere thou their converse understand." 

'* And thou wouldst here my will deter — 
Thy shadow, now, my hopes surmount;" 

'' 'Tis not of thee, fool, they aver — " 
Spoke Zandi — ''but of him, the Count." 

" Thou liest, hag ! now to her side — 
I rush untrammeled now, by fear. 
Fool were I here with thee to hide. 
When they avow that I am near." 

Lenard prepared to leave where he 
Ensconced had been in secret by, 
He hears Ealien's voice joyously, 
And deems for him her welcome cry. 

He starts, then halts, in dread amaze. 
As one transfixed, he saw her press. 
And there before his maddened gaze 
Rush joyous to this Count's caress. 



84 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

''Thou hast," he cried, "the truth revealed, 
Thy hariolation did not He ! 
Yet why shouldst thou here seek, concealed, 
That I to witness this were nigh ?" 

His fingers clinched, the hot blood rose, 
His brow grew dark in passion's storm — 
Could grief augment his bitter woes 
To see her hands caress yon form ? 
His hand sweeps painfully his brow. 
As if this scene he would erase. 
Ealien, thy form grows loathsome now — 
Thrice, thrice, he cried, is she debased. 
And turning to the Sorceress there, 
Though bold, she shudders at his sneer. 
*' Was it — thou incarnated heir 
Of hell — for this thou'st brought me here?" 

" Be calm, Lenard, see how she fawns. 
And toys with him in love's caress ; 
Because for him thy love she scorns 
Thou shouldst not love her yet the less." 

*' Love her the less ! Wouldst thou deride 
And mock my grief, that I should be 
Enamored of this thing beside — 
Pales with a blush duplicity ? 
Thou canst have never loved as I 
Or felt," he cried, " as I its trance, 
Then see its hopes elusive die, 
Yea ! fade like mist, before thy glance." 



THE SHADOW OF A PBOPHECY 

" Hear her for love appeal to him," 
Zandi retorts — "thy past peruse ; 
Does not some shadowed spectre dim — 
Some blighted life — thy heart accuse ? 
Go thou to her, thy Ealien tell 
Of one once fair, like her, now lies 
Where o'er the shrouding waters fell, 
Whose spirit now for vengeance cries." 

" Witch that thou art, as impious liar ! 
Thy breathings here now vilify. 
And secret agents would conspire 
To link with me this odious lie." 

" Go ask thy Ealien — there may know 
If she of thee this tale disdained, 
Her love for him may better show 
Wherein of truth this lie contained." 

His keen eyes, anguished, sees Ealien 
With hands there by the Spaniard clasped ; 
'* Has then these lies infamous been 
By thee so told ?" Lenard now gasped. 
**Thy presence like a blighting breath 
Around misfortune seems to weave — 
Thy visions, prophecies of death. 
Shall now no more my thoughts deceive : 
Thy powers may of the future read, 
Thou liest, hag ! now, of the past — 
Should she believe of me this deed, 



86 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

'Tis thou who would our future blast ! 
From thee the veil I'll rend, and there 
Shall she the false defiler find." 

Ere yet he could her visage bare 
Fast clutched were Lenard's hands behind ; 
He struggles now, he writhes in vain, 
His swaying form his captors hold ; 
He battles fierce to freedom gain. 
And Zandi's bitter smiles behold. 
"Is this," he shouts, "thy hellish work," 
To be by thee inveigled here, 
Where cowards base in secret lurk. 
And slaves of thine, to seize, appear?" 

*' Drag him to where De Neville stands ; 
He came," she cried, ''on murder bent, 
Ye found this dagger in his hands 
And heard him speak of such intent." 

Amazed, he sees how craftily — 
Yet why, he reasons, here her plot ; 
'* Why thus is marked thy enmity 
For one," he asks, "who harmed thee not?" 

They drag him forth, yet struggles he, 
The witless victim of her hate — 
"Were I," he fumed, "ye cowards, free. 
Ye would for mercy supplicate." 

Unheeded they his angered vow — 
He looked to see — Zandi had fled — 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 8/ 

His captors force him onward now ; 

*' We know," they muttered, "what thou'st said." 

The crimson mounts his cheeks to bear 
Before his rival there the shame. 
The loathsome stigma, prying there 
That he by stealth to murder came. 

As the young poet's narration brought us to the 
seizure of Len'ard and the forcible means by which he 
was dragged as a culprit before the Baron de Neville 
" at the instigation of the Sorceress," my mind concluded 
that the mysterious woman had some deep-laid scheme 
whereby to inculpate Len^ard ; but, as my friend stated, 
" I would learn her motives by the result of the Baron's 
decision," 

THE PLOT. 

"Whom," speaks De Neville, ''have we here? 
Come, brawler, thou must have a care. 
Thou wouldst partake of our good cheer. 
And quarrel in our midst wouldst dare !" 

" No common brawler, sir, is he," 
Spoke one, Francois, but with intent ; 
" I heard him say behind yon tree. 
To murder here, the Count, he meant." 

*' 'Tis false, De Neville," he exclaimed. 
As o'er his face the torchlight shone ; 
'' This wretch hath here a lie proclaimed, 
One by a witch he must have known." 



88 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

Each start as Lenard they behold. 
'* So thou in secret loitered near?" 
De Neville speaks, " since he hath told 
We marvel not why thou art here. 
A witch's lie ! in sooth we might," 
De Neville sneers, "thy tale believe. 
But thou proscribed here shuns the light. 
Would of thy motive us deceive. 
And seek by murder to regain 
Her love, whom now betrothed, thou'st found ?" 

" And, sir, by stealth we did obtain 
His dagger as he watched ye round." 
Thus interposed Fran9ois again. 
" Suspicious first, alarmed I grew. 
That he the Count would here have slain, 
Had we not brought him, sir, to you." 

De Neville's eyes burn fierce with rage 
As Lenard calmly made response : 
'' I do admit by espionage 
I sought her who had loved me once ; 
I came not here with fell design, 
Or yet impelled by rival's hate. 
A treasure here I deemed was mine, 
I thought, repined disconsolate. 
Repined, yes, for the love we find. 
When soul to soul, through mirrored eyes. 
We see reflections there that bind. 
And link the souls in deathless ties." 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 

As Lenard spoke his eyes had sought, 
With pained expression, Eahen's face, 
But in those eyes no mellowed thought 
Of sympathy for him gave trace ; 
Cold, soulless, there no feelings gleam, 
Yea, sickened, dies his last dim hope ; 
'' My God !" he cries, '*is this some dream ! 
And ye but phantom's interlope? 
Speak thou, Ealien," he madly cried, 

Then bounds — a Trojan in his wrath — 
To Ealien's timid, shrinking side ; 
He sweeps his captors from his path. 
He kneels, unconscious of each scowl. 
To seize her hand in frenzied zeal. 
** They do, Ealien, my name befoul 
That they from me thy love could steal ; 
Let here," he pleads, ''thine eyes may tell 
Unchanging lives thy love of old — 
A word, a look, my fears dispel, 
Let me, Ealien, one smile behold. 
Each pledge to me, of thine, but think, 
Engrafted lies within this breast. 
But thou," he cries, " dost from me shrink, 
As though thou didst my form detest." 

" I know thee not," Ealien replied. 
Stung by her words that mock belief, 
Recoiling back when hope had died — 
He stands, despair's lost child of grief 



90 EALIEN AND LENABD. 

''She knows thee not," De Neville sneers; 
''She will, Lenard, the Count, soon wed." 

In horror, now, each word he hears 
That she — that witch prophetic — said. 
Again in fear recurs the cave ; 
He sees where Ealien strangled lies. 
" Come, death, thou canst from me her save 
Ere by these maddened hands she dies !" 

Swift as the eagle swoops below, 
When to his prey the monarch lowered — 
As fierce Lenard, ere yet they know, 
Assails and wrests his captor's sword. 
His towering form, majestic now. 
With fierce gripped sword defiant stands ; 
Dark as Ahriman's* pall his brow. 
Why maddened thus none understands. 
" Come now," he cries, " ye cowards, see 
How Lenard here can fate defy 
To save her — yet unworthy, she. 
Now thou, or I, here, Count, must die." 

With wild impetus Lenard sprang 
To where alert the Spaniard stood. 
" Come, thou or I " — his w^ords now rang — 
" Must dye this esplanade with blood." 

Like torrents stirred by tempest's flow 
That leap before the storm king's track 

* The Persian Spirit of Darkness. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 9 1 

Lenard rushed madly on his foe, 
Who sternly waits his fierce attack. 
Swift as the playing of each flash 
That spans in flaming breath the sky — 
As swift as they, their swords now clash. 
And blanch the cheeks of all stood nigh. 
Like one, Ealien, that stupor owned — 
She saw but him who holds her will, 
Oblivious of all else she moaned. 
And shrieks, "he will Orlander kill !" 

Back, back, the skillful Spaniard stepped, 
Pressed now by Lenard' s furious blows. 
His master-hand, to arms adept, 
Turns each, as each now faster grows. 
What power can stay that mad assail 
That fury to his skill had sent? 
Orlander's strength seems fast to fail 
As frenzy more to Lenard's lent. 

'' Now, at thee, dog ! and thou wouldst wed," 
Lenard in husky tones now hissed, 
" The grave shall be thy wedded bed, 
To it this sword shall thee assist." 

Alarmed, De Neville anxious cries, 
" Take thou, Fran9ois, and wield this blade. 
Stand not while there thy master dies — . 
See how, distressed, he needs our aid. 
And thou who captured him as well. 



92 EALIEN ASB LEXAED. 

Charge all, ye cowards, stand not here ; 
His prowess o'er the Count will tell. 
Wilt thou not, Frangois, interfere?" 

** Master, the Count his own w^ill hold, 
He yet but feigns a lack of skill. 
Curse them !" he breathes, " I could behold 
With pleasure each the other kill," 

De Neville saw how feeble grew 
Each moment, now, Orlander's arm ; 
"Will none," he cried, ''that wolf subdue ? 
Dare none Lenard Morrell disarm?" 

Now round the combatants they closed, 
Each fain his valor would attest, 
Yet none so valiantly disposed 
To press beyond where grouped the rest, 
Till at the sound of Ealien's cry 
They see Orlander's shivered blade — 
Lenard' s revengeful sword on high. 
And 'neath, the prostrate Spaniard laid. 
His features bore no craven's look, 
His eyes told not of fear's despair ; 
Of her one anguished glance he took — 
Ealien, his hapless victim, there. 
For her his scheming soul had dared 
To blast her mind, till in its gloom 
His passion might with her have shared 
The blind love of that living tomb, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 93 

Lenard, the victor, o'er him stood, 
Fierce, panting from that bloody fray ; 
His comely face begrimed with blood, 
He holds, with fear, his foes at bay. 

'' Why falter there ? Are ye afraid ? 
When numbers fear, then valor pales. 
Ye have, ye cowards, tribute paid 
To courage, yet ye find it fails." 

Then, pointing to his fallen foe : 
" I would," he cried, '' have mercy shown ; 
But, no, to save her, thou must go. 
Then me these vultures here may own." 

And men now shuddered, turned their gaze 
From that dread crime to be achieved, 
When, lo ! some saw, with glad amaze, 
Lenard's uplifted hand now seized. 

De Neville, panther-like, had crept, 
Unseen, to where, with sullen cry. 
He leaped, that blow to intercept. 
"■ Not by thee, Lenard, shall he die." 

De Neville's frame, senile and weak. 
Before that vengeful arm is bowed. 
To aid the Baron fast they seek. 
Whilst round Lenard retainers crowd. 
A dozen blades menace his breast ; 
Like hounds in at the death they close. 
Orlander, by his wounds distressed, 



94 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

With dark, revengeful look, arose. 

His dagger from his girth he seized, 

His eyes blaze now with threatening glare. 

Lenard, defenceless, now perceived 

A strange o'ermastering power there. 

" Now make thy peace," Orlander hissed ; 
" Not I, but thou, the grave shall wed. 
To murder here thy aim hath missed. 
Fool, this redounds to thee instead." 

His dagger rose. " None here," he cried, 
'* Can thee now from my vengeance save." 

** Strike deep, in death," Lenard replied; 
*' No phantom scenes invade the grave." 

Swift as the aerolite his blade, 
That, gleaming, now seeks Lenard's side. 

" Hold !" rang a voice, and, undismayed, 
Zandi his arm now struck aside. 
*' Back, fool ! Wouldst thou my will defy ?" 

In awe, from her the boldest drew. 
'' 'Tis she, the witch," alarmed, they cry. 
Who'd seen her powers, though veiled, her knew. 
** His life is mine, and thou, beware ! 
Thou shalt for this to me atone. 
Let him, despairing, live to share. 
In grief, the wrongs his past hath sown." 

" Base liar ! hag ! I know thee not," 
Lenard. with fierce vehemence, cried ; 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 95 

'* But thou, with schemes that craft begot, 
To ruin here my name hath tried." 

Orlander, baffled, now recedes. 
'' Curse her !" he breathes ; " her presence here, 
Since she for him, her victim, pleads. 
But garbs her hate in scheme's veneer." 

"What creature," Count De Neville asked, 
" Is this that doth thee so abjure. 
And thus assails with presence masked. 
That thou must needs her threats endure ?" 

" I know her not," Orlander spoke, 
*' Unless by her reputed lore ; 
Some of these guileless village folk 
May of her deeds than I know more." 

'' I speak to him to have a care, 
As I, De Neville, speak to thee, 
As one who reads the future dare 
Unfold its direful prophecy. 
The future doth evolve in red 
A scene wherein thy child appears, 
And blood in every line is read — 
Its picture fills my soul with fears. 
Do thou Lenard a captive keep ; 
There, in the dungeon's loathsome air, 
Let him o'er past transgressions weep. 
Mark well ; Lenard is safest there. 
And thou, Orlander, Count of Spain, 



96 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

Unciphered still is that decree 

That rules thy fate ; yet here remain, 

And hate shall track thy perfidy." 

Lenard stood mute, till to his mind 
Came, from her words, that scene again. 

" Thou witch !" he cried ; " thou wert ill-timed. 
'Twere better far that I were slain. 
Who art thou, hag ? Thy every bent 
Seems doomed my haunted life to fill — 
That fate remorselessly hath sent 
Its curse that I Ealien shall kill." 

" My daughter kill !" De Neville screamed. 
''Thou wretch, when we, in mercy, spared 
Thy life we then but little deemed 
That such our clemency had shared." 

" Hear me, De Neville, hear my tale. 
Then thou some humane thought must feel ; 
For one whom prophecies entail 
Hath curs'd till here I must reveal." 

*' Away with him !" De Neville fumed ; 
'' He would offset yon woman's lore. 
Till ye are wed. Count, he is doomed ; 
A cell shall curb his passion o'er, 
And thou, Fran9ois, for him to me 
Shall I of thee hold stern account. 
Should he regain his liberty 
To harm thy master here, the Count." 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. g7 

" Since ye in me so well confide, 
While here my master shall remain, 
None shall but they who aid beside. 
An ingress to our captive gain." 

" Come ! come !" — his captor's harsh rebuke. 
As Lenard gazed on Ealien's face. 
He meets but there its stony look ; 
Her form turns to the Count's embrace. 
His soul within sinks as she pleads 
With him, his rival, her to wed. 

'* Fools !" muttered Zandi, " who of deeds 
To-morrow's plans ere this have fled." 

Unconscious there of all her save, 
" Ealien, my love," he made reply : 
" ^OY thee Orlander death would brave." 

" Ere that," breathes Zandi, "she shall die." 

The evidence of her motives became tangible in the 
commitment of Lenard to a dungeon of the castle. Yet 
why not, this hero, valiant enough to hold that inimical 
assemblage at bay, fearlessly denounce that woman, re- 
peating her prophecy, thus stultifying her prediction, the 
anathema of which had been slowly leading him a slave 
to the belief of that inevitable doom ? The efforts of 
the unfortunate youth, Henry reminded me, were made 
fruitless by the appearance of Zandi and the fear in which 
her monition was received, to confine him a prisoner to 
prevent his perpetration of a terrible deed. " How well 
she succeeded," he said, "future developments in my 



98 EALIEN AND LENABD. 

tale will illustrate." "Yet," I repeated, in response, "the 
woman's action resulted in removing from the Count's 
path the only obstacle to obviate his success in securing 
the hand of Ealien, she being a helpless victim to the 
wonderful influence of his will." "The pernicious mas- 
tery of her power," he continued, " will become more 
visible in the part I am about to relate." 



THE PRISON— THE CAPTIVE. 

Within the cell the dim light crept ; 

The last pulsating throb of day 

That beamed its ray ere night had swept 

Its sombre robes where gold now lay, 

And stealing through a niche that, high, 

Scarce lights the sepulchre of stone, 

And lingers there as if to die 

With him, its sad inmate, alone — 

Alone in grief — as fitfully 

He paces now its noisome floor, 

And sees, in wild despondency 

And baffled hate, its massive door 

Hushed as the still that guards the tomb 

When midnight hour its warnings beat, 

No sound save in that dismal gloom 

The tread that tells of restless feet. 

He paces on with gloomy brow ; 

He halts, he thinks, and here to find, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 99 

He mutters, she I love, but now 

Hath Hved the basest of her kind. 

To me in day the sun's soft Hght 

But warmer grew when she was near, 

And she, debased, laughed on that night — 

Yea, scoffed at my prophetic fear ; 

And she, reviling truth till there — 

A lie so foul, infamous, swore, 

And called each star to witness bear 

Her love was mine still as before. 

Could they, he moaned, have chastely kept 

Their vigil, and, unblushing, see 

Her sin, as I of fears bereft 

Drank hope from her pledged constancy ? 

No, they, he murmured painfully — 

Ethereal jewels of that land 

That beareth truth, her sin could see 

As I, fool, grasped in love her hand. 

To think so false — as there — her thought 

Wing'd then to him in love away, 

As I in pleading voice besought 

The pledge that would my fears allay. 

And she with vow undying pledged 

Her love alone that night was mine ; 

That witch, she pleaded, false alleged. 

Did she the future else divine. 

Is this, he cried, her pledge fulfilled ? 



1 00 EA L TEN A ND LENA ED. 

When I, imperilled by their hate, 

When they her Lenard would have killed- 

Did she for me compassionate ? 

Can all her thoughts of me be dead ? 

It wrings my soul her treachery, 

'Tis maddening chaos to my head ; 

That lie so vile — she knew not me. 

I curse them all ; but for this chain 

That galling binds me now behind, 

Yea, death would I here brave to gain. 

That she, ere his, I yet might find. 

Within these walls, to pause, to think, 

A phantom mocks me from the grave, 

And she, their Agnes on that brink, 

Aye becks me on, and none to save. 

But she is dead ; why haunts me she ? 

Her haughty soul and passion thought 

Might there achieve to wed with me 

The aim her proud pretensions sought ; 

When to her pleadings I affirmed 

That I with her could never wed, 

With grief when she was dead I learned — 

She died despairing, when she fled. 

Away these thoughts ; I've done no wrongs 

That boyish whim brought no disgrace, 

Yet in this mystery that throngs 

Around me now, I see her face. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 10 

Will she, that witch, me ever haunt ? 
Her spectre now pervades this gloom, 
Forever her accursed taunt. 
See there, Lenard, thy Ealien's doom. 

Again he strode his dreary cell, 
Forsaken day left weird the gloom. 
Come, death ! he cried, this dread dispel, 
Make thou in mercy this my tomb. 
Weary at last, he seeks repose ; 
Could I, he murmured, here but die. 
Life's grief makes less thy bitter throes, 
When hopes beyond, immortal lie. 
He starts, he, straining, hears a sound 
That tells of footsteps drawing near ; 
As painfully his hands are bound, 
He through the darkness strives to peer. 
They come ! he hears their clinking steel — 
They shall not say I know of fear ; 
The heart can best its pain conceal 
Where flows not grief's unbidden tear. 
The pond'rous door swings open wide, 
A flambeau yields each form to view ; 
Fran9ois, the schemer, steps inside. 
Accompanied by an escort who 
Had daily served his spare repast. 
The torch sheds round a lurid glare. 
Exposing, stern, with hands bound fast, 

7 



I02 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

Lenard, yet bold, defiant, there. 
As he at Frangois fiercely glared, 
The light reveals how changed his face ; 
"So thou," he cried, " traducer, dared — 
Whose lie was, like thy manhood, base — 
Come now, to see the wreck that lie 
Hath made of one who dared ye all. 
Think ye that I am loath to die ? 
I seek, not shun, from life its pall." 

'' Retire," spoke Frangois, " I alone, 
Though loath, this deed shall perpetrate ; 
I will to its commission own. 
Thou may, without attendant, wait." 

The iron door swings to its place. 
And creaking sounds as spirits moan 
To see this lost soul face to face 
With him, the plotter, there alone ; 
The cold environed dismal cell. 
The ghastly flicker of that light, 
Makes its confines a fitter hell, 
To hear Fran9ois's plot that night. 

Thou complot of Zandi's dark will. 
Does not thy deed repugnant grow ? 
His breast with harrowed grief to fill, 
At her behest add to his woe. 
And all to win the smile that she 
Thou deem'st love will in return 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. IO3 

Give back for thy base treachery — 
Too soon her hollow pledge thou'lt learn. 
And such is love, that to its ends 
Man of his man makes mortal foe — 
To win what heaven's virtue lends, 
Makes man to man oft baser grow. 

''Why art thou here ?" Lenard now spoke. 
" Thy sword speaks as to murder bent 
Had prompted thee to deal the stroke, 
By them who hath thee hither sent." 

" Lenard Morrell, should I disclose 
Who to this deed hath Francois sent 
To deal the cold assassin's blows, 
That name thy grief would but ferment. 
Think not free agent I have come 
To this fell task — I would befriend, 
And give to thee the solace'd sum 
Of all the aid my power can lend." 

" Tell me who hath commission'd thus ? 
Wert thou my friend or her base tool 
That I must grow so credulous 
To look for aid from thee, thou fool ? 
Go to her, tell them all !" he cried, 
" How Lenard scoffed at thy menace ; 
That she in prophecy hath lied ! 
Thou servest her, this prophetess." 

" 'Tis false ! ingratitude were sin. 



104 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

'Tis she, Lenard, who would thee save, 

And seeks by me, for thee, to win 

Escape — to save thee from the grave. 

List thou, I will to thee relate — 

Be patient, bear with me, and then 

I will her tale reiterate, 

And doubt me if thou will ; then when 

I tell thee it is one that seeks 

That thou shouldst die unknown to all 

Who wronged thee, and a fear still keeps 

Lest friends rescue thee from this hall." 

'* I know not if thou'rt friend or foe, 
'Tis he," hissed Lenard, " I suspect, 
This Count, thy master, who would show 
His hate for one whose life he wrecked. 
Why parley thou if to this deed 
Thou hast thy master promise gave ? 
How couldst thou serve me in this need — 
Wouldst thou for me his anger brave?" 
" Not he, the Count, would so demean 
As thus to seek his rival's life. 
But she of all who shouldst thee screen — 
'Tis her thou wouldst have made a wife." 

" My God !" he shrieked, "thou canst not say 
That she to thee did this suggest. 
That such inhuman thoughts could lay 
Where love for me was wont to rest. 



i 



THE SHADO W OF A PR OPHECY. I O 5 

Thou liest, dog ! accursed she, 
I know Hves in her bitter shame, 
But this suggest, to murder me, 
From her in truth it never came — 
Who once could fondle to my breast, 
As in the incense of her smile, 
Her words, her love, all did attest — 
And yet ! he moans, she hath grown vile ; 
Didst thou not see her on that night. 
When thou and all like tigers pressed. 
To crush me there before her sight ? 
Her voice sought not ye to arrest ; 
Thou heard her not with pleading strive. 
Unmoved she stood, nor importuned 
To stay that fell impending drive, 
When I, disarmed, he would have doomed 
Had not that witch ill-timed appeared. 
Who wields o'er him her latent power — 
I sought for death, yet her he feared — 
And dared but to her mandate cower." 

'' Aye, true, Lenard ; if not he would 
Have slain thee by his vengeful blow, 
And she whom thou hast loved well could 
Have seen thy death and felt no woe." 

*' Then why did she, this witch, intrigue ? 
And claim for murder I was there ; 
With her thou must have been in league, 
So well did thou her scheming share." 



I06 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

" She did, Lenard, this plan contrive, 
But all I swear to save thy name ; 
Alone in honor did she strive 
To show thee Ealien's blushless shame. 
'Tis she who now would intercede 
To rescue thee from Ealien's power. 
And did for thee this evening plead, 
Yea, sought me but this very hour 
To plead for thee when she thou loved 
Had sought my aid to this foul deed ; 
And thus her wrong a boon hath proved, 
I can thee now to freedom lead." 

As Frangois told how she had sought 
To win that pledge to murder him. 
Distorted by internal thought 
His features drawn were set and grim ; 
He paced his cell as Frangois gazed 
On him with sly demonic leer. 
His haggard face at length was raised — 
** So she, thou say'st, does me fear, 
And she hath prompted thee to kill — 
Tell me, thou art a friend, I feel. 
Did she suggest with cunning will 
How thou a death to me should deal ?" 

" My heart, Lenard, to tell thee more 
Feels smote that she could so conspire ; 
I did for thee to her implore. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. lO/ 

But no, thy death was her desire ; 
She does the Count to-morrow wed — 
And soughl that here I strangle thee, 
And said by such, when thou wert dead 
None would suspect of treachery." 

** Nay, nay, no truth more grief can bring, 
The heart impervious grows to pain. 
When wrongs hath barren made its spring, 
And snaps life's fondest hope in twain. 
The darkest night will bear some light, 
E'en rocks by tinted verdure pressed 
Will in return their clasp requite. 
And give them on their bosom rest : 
But she, he moaned, her heart hath grown 
More fouler than the darkest gloom. 
More sterile than the barren stone 
Where clings the saxifrage,* to bloom." 

** And thou wert loath to consummate 
This deed, from which thy heart did shrink, 
And she would force thee perpetrate 
That she with him her name might link. 
Were I but free," he fiercely hissed, 
*' Not him to-morrow would she wed. 
Though I to her death-cries would list. 
She should ere that — and I — be dead." 
As though fate echoes back each word, 

* An Alpine plant. 



lo8 E ALIEN AND LEXARD. 

Resounding her dread prophecy, 

" What sin," he cries, ''have I incurred, 

That fate decrees she dies by me ?" 

The cold sweat bathes his haggard brow, 
His eyes shine with uncertain hght — 
Erratic, wild, his manner now 
Told reason fast was taking flight. 
Immobile Frangois gazed upon 
And saw his grief-racked victim there. 
Too well his subtle plot led on 
To death, Ealien, for thee to share. 
" Fear not, Lenard," his foul tongue spoke, 
" I will from here thee liberate. 
Thou canst prevent this hated yoke — 
To kill them both were but just fate." 

"No, no, not him would I molest, 
Wilt thou but aid me to regain 
My liberty ere he shall wrest 
All that I live for to retain." 

Francois, with well-affected grief, 
Spoke : " Here thou shalt not long remain ; 
I will," he said, " Lenard, be brief, 
To tell thee how I can obtain 
Emancipation from this cell 
For thee ; the guard that stands without 
Would eagerly his mistress tell 
Did he of me but hold a doubt. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. IO9 

He deems to strangle thee I stayed, 
That I the crime should share alone. 
I can to him appear dismayed 
And to its dark commission own. 
Thy cell unguarded then shall be — 
They feast to-night within the Hall ; 
Again shall fortune favor thee ; 
Thou canst upon thy Ealien call. 
But stay, I must be well from here 
Ere thou attempt to leave thy cell, 
I must within the Hall appear 
That I can her of thy death tell ; 
I can, too, w^hisper in her bower 
A friend, shall I say, w^ill her wait." 

" Oh," whispered he, " I feared this hour; 
Her words alone must seal our fate." 

Deftly the shackles now were loosed. 
That Lenard's hands so long had bound ; 
" I, whom thou hast of wrong accused. 
To thee a friend, Lenard, is found." 

" Aye, friend thou art, but what to me 
Is friend or deep embittered foe, 
When, steeled by her duplicity. 
To kill her now perhaps I go ? 
But she is mine, her vows coalesced ! 
The spirit of her love to me, 
Of her I will yet be possessed. 
'Tis justice, not iniquity." 



I lO EALIEN AND LENARD. 

" Thou'rt right, Lenard, she should be thine, 
He'd steal the perfume of an hour, 
Then leave her blighted to repine 
In shame, a desolated flower." 

"Her words shall be her judge in tone, 
Of awful import," Lenard cried ; 
*' If not in life I may her own, 
Then death life's veil shall tear aside." 

** Thou hast the courage of a soul 
Who dares the portals of a tomb, 
Whose love undying would control 
Her spirit's Hfe beyond its gloom." 

And turning now to leave Lenard — 
'* Stay thou," he said, '' a while behind. 
The way for thee shall be unbarred, 
And Ealien in her bower thou'lt find." 

So interested had I grown in the details that were lead- 
ing to that fearful tragedy that I failed to interrupt his 
story as he began his description of the banquet scene. 

THE BANQUET. 

Within the Hall in festive mirth 
The guests around them eager throng, 
Orlander saw the fair of Birth, 
Yet none so beauteous there among 
As she the morrow's promised bride, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 1 1 1 

Profiled as love's first fancies mould, 
In loveliness stood by his side, 
Where nestled in her hair the gold 
Found soft reflex above her brow, 
That arch where silken lashes screen 
Those azure orbs that dreamlike now 
Repose so strange, so calm, serene. 
Yet as the flower bends to the sun, 
To catch its god's soft, molient rays, 
Her eyes fixed ever looks upon 
And turns to him that languid gaze. 
Around them squires and noble dames 
In gorgeous costumes splendor lent. 
And graced with proud patrician names 
The banquet ere the morn's event. 

*' So, Baron, she so soon must leave, 
'Twere better far that she were dead ! 
Death would her of a power relieve ; 
Beware, let her not with him wed." 

The Baron turns now in amaze 
To see who had him thus addressed, 
But looked in vain with anxious gaze 
As new-found fears welled in his breast. 
He saw around each smiling face — 
Why should I feel, he thought, alarm ? 
See how her love of him gives trace, 
Her look my father's fears disarm. 



T I 2 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

" S' death ! now Baron this is strange, 
Thy daughter does thee soon forsake, 
This Count were eager to arrange 
From hence his bride scarce wed to take." 

Again he turns, but by his side 
Earl CHnton with a smile him greets ; 
" Ah, Earl, thou should'st not me deride. 
We friends, thou know'st, so seldom meet." 

'' Nay, nay, my friend, I but now spoke 
As we in days of old were wont, 
And little thought to grief provoke 
Or sting thee by a thoughtless taunt." 

** Twice, Earl, this eve have words been said 
That prompt my father's heart to know 
Why she, so eager by him led, 
Seeks all, so soon, from me to go." 

** Right well thou'st spoken, noble friend !" 
The Earl with feeling made response, 
'' Were I but thee I would not lend 
My word that they should leave at once ; 
Hast thou not noted, Baron, yet 
How immobile her glance is turned. 
To him her being in him set — 
Of love like this I have not learned." 

** My father's heart from day to day 
Hath seen her hke a flower fade, 
And noted, too, how strange her way, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I I 3 

Since he to her his suit hath paid. 
But love hke hers is seldom known, 
Resuscitating 'neath his eye, 
And wakes till for his love alone 
For all, but him, her passions die." 

'' Aye, so it is in new-found smiles. 
How soon we. Baron, can forget, 
When Cupid, with his fickle wiles. 
Builds passions new and old ones set. 
Ah, too, that youth, Lenard Morrell, 
Must chagrined feel for her his loss ; 
They told me he had loved so well 
He deemed it wise the sea to cross 
To find there solace for his grief. 
How little can the thoughts exile 
That once a captive found belief 
In truth, and lost its first love's smile." 

" 'Twere retribution for his crime ! 
He would my daughter seek to wed. 
And with his name dishonor mine. 
He ruined one, they say, is dead." 

*' I give no credence to this tale, 
The youth he bears an honored name ; 
Some one who would his right assail 
To wed her would him thus defame." 

O'er Clinton's words De Neville thought, 
His look bespoke his troubled mind ; 



I 14 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

*' Can I to him this shame hav^e brought," 
He mused, " and wrongly him consigned, 
And charged him with that heinous deed, 
That guiltless of his soul remained ? 
More wrong, unjust, were this grave deed, 
Since I, who loved him once, detained." 

Orlander saw with grave concern 
How keen on him their glances rest, 
Their looks, he mused, that constant turn. 
To me their converse doth attest. 
I know not why to-night I fear. 
There's import in yon searching eyes, 
And yet the time hath grown so near, 
Can they my hidden powers surmise ? 
Away these thoughts, she is not here, 
Of whom Barillo feels but dread, 
No word do I or Francois hear 
Of her since, baffled, she has fled ; 
She thought I, prostrate at the shrine 
Of her dark power's infinity, 
Would here not dare to make thee mine 
Or balk her base suzerainty. 
" My love," he breathes to Ealien now, 
"Brief grow the hours that intervene 
Our wedding, and they mutely vow. 
As passing, naught will come between. 
But oh, how slow the moments steal, 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I I 5 

To ope the threshold of that hour, 
When thou with phghted troth will seal 
Thy love, unconscious in my power. 
And faithful Fran(^ois he hath served 
So well I cannot him forget ; 
With blind devotion yet unswerved 
He does my fondest hopes abet, 
And guards with never ceasing eyes 
The cell where Lenard lies immured, 
Till wedded then to Ealien I 
His treasured prize shall have secured. 
But why does Clinton lowering look, 
And, too, De Neville searching scan 
Me o'er, as if they interest took, 
And then requisite they should plan 
Some scheme to me of grave sequence ? 
The eye reflects but from the mind, 
Where lie uncertainties' suspense, 
They would more of Orlander find. 
Too late De Neville dubious grows, 
He little recked, when him I sought, 
That I to her might love propose, 
Her will to mine was captive brought. 
Zandi now fled, Lenard confined, 
And thou, Ealien, within my power. 
None have Barillo's power divined, 
I wait thee now, hymeneal hour." 



I 1 6 E A LIEN AND LENABD. 

Eagerly I asked Henry if it could be possible that 
the Count would yet marry Ealien, and she, so blind to 
the unholy influence of his love, forgetting in my en- 
grossed frame of mind, till he smiled, that this was but 
a story of the past ; albeit this knowledge, I felt a thrill 
of satisfaction to know that in Zandi's absence hope still 
lived for the avoidance of Lenard's commission of that 
crime for which he had been released, but hope sank 
within me as he commenced to describe the inmate of 
of the armor room. 

THE ARMOR ROOM-RUFUS HALL. 

Within the gloom a figure paced 
Impatiently, with hasty stride, 
As, through the room her footsteps traced, 
Gazed furtively, from side to side 
And strove to peer within the shades 
Where trophied arms of bygone knight 
As monuments the past invades, 
And bays with faded plumes — the light 
That falls subdued on steel-clad forms 
Bruised in the strife of many a plain. 
Whose owners now from life's fierce storms 
Have long in death the victor lain. 
As shadows from them w^eirdly steal, 
Like spectral sentinels of the past, 
The moon through latticed panes reveal 
How anxiously her eyes are cast 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 1 1 7 

Within the shadow's sombre track, 
As fearful lest some figure near 
Might in the darkness linger back, 
And of her plot with Francois hear. 
Faintly the sound of revels now 
Steal from the Hall to Zandi's ear. 
'Tis she, to consummate her vow. 
Waits now till Francois doth appear. 
Feast on, ye deem but of the hour ! 
That lulls each fear with pleasure's breath, 
While I, with deep, insidious power. 
Weave round the ghastly pall of death. 
Fool hast thou, now, Orlander, grown, 
To feast with Ealien by thy side, 
Lulled by the thought that I have flown, 
That she will yet become thy bride. 
Had I not loved thee to thy shame, 
I would thy secret promulgate 
And brand with infamy thy name — 
But no — I can yet calm await. 
Till he by Francois goaded on. 
And taunted by her shameless crime. 
Seeks her to vengeance wreak upon ; 
That hour indeed shall witness mine. 
When he above her murdered form 
Shall plead for death in frenzied cries. 
Then shall I crush him to inform 



1 1 8 E ALIEN AND LENA ED. 

That guiltless by his hand she dies. 

He little thought when, years ago 

She, whom his taunt there drove to seek 

Her death where none might of her know, 

Would live, o'er him her curse to wreak. 

Frangois, who hath no cause, like I, 

To know or feel for Lenard hate, 

Would seek to win by that base lie 

A love, his deed would desecrate. 

Fool base to think, she murmured low. 

He would to me in love aspire ; 

Too soon thou'lt learn of me to know 

I used thee but whilst I conspired. 

The jackal crawls to seek the feast 

The forest monarchs' taste disdain. 

And viler he, than lowest beast, 

Who hath for love his manhood slain. 

A panel in the wainscot wall 
With noiseless motion moves aside. 
And Frangois, quick — though soft his fall- 

Of step, now reaches Zandi's side. 

*' Time flies, I must now soon away !" 

Frangois in hurried tones now spoke ; 

*' I did thy bidding well obey, 

In Lenard's breast a hell I woke ; 

He cursed and fumed as one bereft 

Of reason there to be avenged, 



THE SHA D W OF A PR OPHECY. 1 1 9 

Unbarred have I his prison left ; 
He deems, Zandi, I was his friend." 

'' Did he then, Frangois, to thee swear 
He would, should he escape, her kill, 
When thou hadst told him how she'd dare 
To plan his murder with such skill ?" 

'' He did, Zandi ; he now doth wait. 
In pent-up passion in her room. 
Zandi, to satisfy thy hate. 
Must I Ealien send to her doom?" 

*' It must be so ! What, to my lust 
For vengeance, is her life to me ? 
She whom he treasured dearest must 
Die by his hand — 'tis my decree. 

Thou didst not of thy Master dare 
To utter aught to bring him ill ? 
The end my powers will not bare 
My breast with dark monitions fill." 

" Zandi, thy word is my command ; 
For thee have I the schemer played. 
And look now for thy promised hand, 
Since I have thee so well obeyed. 
I did not of the Count ill speak, 
My heart felt smote by deeper sin 
When I, by prompting murder, seek 
By this intrigue thy hand to win. 
What is the Count to thee, Zandi ? 



I20 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

Thy hand is mine as recompense ; 

When she whom thou hast sought shall die 

I will thee claim when we go hence." 

The gloom obscures her flashing eye ; 
** Go thou, lure Ealien to her bower ! 
Remember, should Orlander die, 
Thou, too, Frangois, shall know my power. 
Go mingle with each gathered guest, 
Then him advise Ealien retire ; 
And see his leaving thou arrest — 
See well to this, 'tis my desire. 
Haste now, Frangois, this hand is thine 
When he shall have his Ealien killed ; 
And vengeance then complete is mine — 
My prophecy at last fulfilled." 

As he concluded his portrayal of the conference be- 
tween that incarnation of hate and the unscrupulous in- 
strument of her revenge, my feelings were divided by 
hate for the plotters and sympathy for the doomed 
Ealien and the unfortunate youth whose lack of reason 
was blindly leading him to the murder of his inoffensive 
victim. Henry seemed pleased with my absorption of 
poetical rendition. The circumstances becoming so 
absorptive, I vainly inquired if there could be no preclu- 
sion to the murder of Ealien by her lover. " The Count, 
who guards her so zealously, would never permit her to 
leave his sight," I exclaimed, when Henry, even sadly, 
himself recounted the subsequent event that transpired in 
the Banquet Hall. 



THE SHADO W OF A PROPHECY. 1 2 1 

THE BANQUET HALL. 

Francois approached Orlander's side ; 

" Sefior," he spoke, *' I heard the tone 

Of speakers here who vainly tried 

To hide the words their speech made known." 

'* How so, Frangois ? of what import 
Are words of theirs that thou shouldst try 
And seek to eagerly report 
As if some graveness they imply?" 

'* Methought, Sefior, I would thee tell, 
Then thou thyself, judge of their sense ; 
And deem but too, it would be well 
If Ealien from this place were hence." 

" Tell me, Francois, what thou hast heard 
That such thy fears would justify?" 

'' It was, Sefior, from words inferred — 
They spoke how strange shone Ealien's eye. 
That she to some dark spell a slave 
Of which they could not comprehend. 
To that her manner witness gave — 
So seemed the view of each to bend," 

" She shall then to her bower alone ! 
No longer shall they scrutinize ; 
When thoughts like these around have grown 
I dare not now thy fears despise. 
Ealien, my love, do thou retire — 



I 22 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

And too, alone, be thy request ; 

I will, to all who may inquire, 

Say thou, unwell, hast sought thy rest. 

And thou, Francois, so faithful now. 

See none shall her ere morn molest ; 

Guard thou her chamber, none allow 

To see her — say "'tis her request." 

Ealien — blind slave — unwitting went ; 
Would none now save her fated hour, 
Price of a woman's vengeance sent — 
And death awaits her in that bower. 

As he described the decoy of Francois to secure Ealien 
as the victim, so intent had I become in the incidents 
that must soon lead to a conclusion as to debar further 
interruption as Henry explained. 

THE BEDCHAMBER. 

Behind the arras now concealed 
In Ealien's bower Lenard her waits. 
His clinching hands the folds that shield 
Impatiently he separates ; 
Revealing now his tortured looks, 
That gaze with wild, uncertain stare. 
How painfully suspense he brooks 
As madness rules o'er reason there. 
So she would have them murder me ! 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I23 

Thy plot, he hissed, with craft was laid — 

But they less vile in treachery 

Than thee — hath not thy will obeyed ; 

He was to me, indeed, a friend. 

Whom she had thought leagued to her power, 

And did for this retrenchment send 

To crush thee ere thy triumph's hour. 

Kill me — because I loved thee well — 

And thou couldst feast while they w^ould slay. 

And deem for thee the wedding-bells 

Would toll for me their solemn lay. 

But no ! I will here thee await, 

Till thou, Ealien, from festal glee — 

From scenes that doth thy heart elate. 

That mock with feast, thy infamy — 

Shall here, by him, to me be lured 

Whom thou to that base deed assigned, 

Whose heart to guilt was not inured, 

And less to me than thine, unkind. 

Yes, here, to judge thee by thy deed — 

Thy broken troth's unholy vow — 

Where none shall hear thee piteous plead. 

Resigned to fate, I wait thee now. 

His ear the sound of steps detects — 

'Tis she, he breathes, w^ho cometh nigh — 

The thought of her a change effects, 

A milder light illumes his eye. 



I 24 EALIEX AXD LENARD. 

If she but of the past repents, 
Foregoing him, we yet may Hve ; 
One word of love and hate relents ; 
I could, he breathes, her all forgive. 
The clinging folds Lenard now hide. 
As quickly he behind withdrew. 
And, peering where its folds divide. 
He saw that form so well he knew 
That enters now with listless air — 
So strangely ghostlike Ealien's mien — 
He starts to see that face so fair, 
So changed to him, from what had been, 
That look — has justice found her sin. 
To curse her with remorse's chain. 
For I, whom now she deems within 
Yon loathsome cell, by her will slain ? 

Like clouds that veil the summer sky, 
And wrap its dome when tempests beat, 
His brow grew dark and fierce his eye 
To hear her lips a name repeat. 
That name — and she he loves so there — 
His by her pledge, to hear her moan : 
Orlander I can joy but share 
With thee who doth my spirit own. 

Beyond restraint his passion burst, 
He dashed the arras now aside. 
With frenzied bound the room traversed. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY, I 25 

And glaring, stood by Ealien's side. 

** So wretch, thou monstrous thing of shame ! 

That foul negotiates to slay, 

And seeks to hide by trick the blame — 

Aye, strangle me, didst thou not say ? 

Was not thy heart of blackest hue ? 

When thou polluted with thy breath 

The truth, and pledged that thou wert true ; 

That thou must needs have sought my death. 

Speak now," he cried, as she stood mute 

And gazed with cold impassive glance, 

" Can thy base soul this truth refute 

That thou didst murder countenance ? 

Speak, yet, I could thee all forgive, 

One word in pity Ealien say — 

Could I, this human wreck, here live 

If thou from me wert stole away — 

In nature's realms no love-lit smile 

Like thine for me could supersede ; 

Heed not, they would my name defile, 

'Tis not too late, I to thee plead." 

She looked, he stood with pleading hands ; 

Cold, feelingless, her answer came, 

" Thou'rt not Orlander who commands 

And calls in love, his Ealien's name." 

Back from her now Lenard recoils, 
His senses maddened by her sting ; 



1 26 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

" So thou, by subterfuge, still soils 

And dyes in deeper robes thy sin ; 

Nor shall he stand," he hissed, '' to hear 

The words at morn thy lips would plight — 

Ere that," he cried, " thy soul from here 

With mine shall take eternal flight. 

'Tis not in hate I would secure 

Thy soul with mine, through death's dark sphere, 

Beyond its veil they could not lure 

The love they have denied me here." 

She stands impervious to his threat — 
Blind she to his fell scheme resolved — 
Could his wild gaze that eye have met. 
Aye reason, maddened, would have solved 
That look ; but no, she struggles now 
As, seizing her, insanely led — 
'' Thy life is mine !" he cried, " thy vow — " 
His brutal hands now clutch her head. 
Hushed as the soundless step of death, 
Zandi, with fierce satanic leer, 
Creeps in to where her victim's breath 
In stifled sounds falls on her ear. 

*'Aye, kill, mad foe !" she laughed, '' and deem — 
Who knew thee not could faithless be :" 
She hears her last despairing scream — 
" 'Tis my revenge and prophecy !" 

Without, Frangois heard Ealien's cry. 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY, 12/ 

" She dies," he breathes, " but not alone ; 
He whom Zandi to save would try 
Must die, that I her still may own." 

With hurried steps he seeks the hall. 
And eager sought Orlander's ears ; 
" Senor, I heard thy Ealien call 
Lenard ; he hath escaped, I fear. 
I heard there vows of wild despair, 
To rob thee of the morrow's bride ; 
We will, Sefior, commotion spare — 
Haste, thou, Fran(;ois is at thy side." 

A look of dread surmounts his brow ; 
" Come, Francois, then I lead the way. 
Her warning tones they haunt me now — 
I grew, Fran9ois, to fear this day ; 
Zandi, with her prophetic skill, 
Warned me the day foreboded dread. 
That I some bloody scene would fill 
Should I attempt to Ealien wed. 
But come, Francois, thou follow me." 

With sword in hand he leads the way, 
And little deemed that treachery 
Lay lurking in his rear to slay. 

Through corridors Orlander rushed, — 
Francois behind, with dirk in hand, — 
Where sounds of revels fainter hushed 
He grips it now, fierce to command ; 



128 EALTEN AND LENARD. 

'* My hour hath come, 'tis meet that I, 
So long servile, their lives dispart ; 
This night, Orlander, he must die 
That I alone own Zandi's heart." 
They reached the room as Ealien cried, 
Orlander burst in wide the door ; 
A dagger swift plunged in his side, 
He sinks, fast dying, to the floor. 
Keen, swift, the silent blow was dealt — 
The carmine tide was flowing fast, 
Zandi had seen, and, falling, knelt 
By him ; but hope for him was past. 

Upon her couch now swooning, thrown, 
Where Lenard's hands suppress her call — 
For Ealien hope seemed to have flown, 
He starts, he hears Orlander fall. 
His hands relax their cruel grasp, 
He turns to gaze upon the dead 
And saw there one those dead hands clasp 
That slowly to him turns her head. 
He staggers back, his hands now clutch 
His brow with aspect agonized : 
*' Thou'rt dead !" he shrieked, " do not him touch !' 
'Twas Agnes there he recognized. 
And slowly now, with outstretched hand, 
She rose, still pointing to that bed ; 
He sees, but cannot understand 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I 29 

That simulachre of the dead. 

" Not dead," she hissed, " but in this hour 

I Hve to gloat triumphantly, 

And taunt thee now with Zandi's power. 

That curs'd thee with her prophecy. 

Yon form there dying from thy hand. 

Whom thou hast charged with perfidy, 

She dies through thee at my command, 

For my revenge, and guiltlessly." 

Despair replaced his frenzied look ; 
Bewildered in his grief he stands. 
Then falling on his knees he took 
And kissed with passion Ealien's hands. 
Oblivious of all else he kneels, 
He hears not shouts within the Hall, 
Where Francois now for aid appeals — 
Affecting grief, he " murder !" calls. 
The guests in wild confusion rushed 
Alarmed, De Neville at their head — 
His frame with bitter grief is crushed 
To see the Count before him dead. 
He shrieks, Ealien unconscious there 
He sees, and anguishedly he cries, 
" What wrong did she, thou couldst not spare 
That she, too, murdered by thee dies !" 

Francois approaches Zandi's side 
To where alone, unmoved, she stood — 



I30 EALIEN AND LENARD. 

*' Away, thou murderer !" she cries ; 

** Thy hands, thou dog, are red in blood." 

Surprised he looks — can she have seen 
That I so secret dealt the blow ; 
** Can she within," he mused, " have been — 
'Twas for her love ; she must it know ; 
Zandi, but list," in plaintive voice 
Subdued in tone, he makes reply — 
" Do I not in thy love rejoice. 
Was he to thee then more than I ?" 
** Do I love thee ?" she hissed ; *' I hate — 
I scorn thee now — away !" she cries — 
*' 'Tis he who did assassinate ; 
His victim there now murdered lies." 

*' And this, curse thee, is thy reward 
For me, who served thee faithfully, 
To be by thee thus now abhorred, 
The dupe of thy fell treachery. 
'Tis she," he cried, " hear all of me, 
This hellish scheme in hate hath laid 
And I, in blind fatuity. 
The tool of her revenge was made. 
Curse thee," he cried, " since thou hast brought 
To me this shame, and then despise 
Amidst the ruins that thou has wrought — 
Death claims thee now — by me thou dies." 

A dagger flashed from out his breast ; 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I 3 I 

He lunged, as Zandi back recoiled, 
She laughs, as her own dagger pressed 
Within her heart. *' Fool, thou art foiled." 

He turns from her with sickened fear, 
" Forgive me now, Lenard," he pleads, 
" I did yon bandit outlaw^ slay." 

But words of his Lenard unheeds. 
Beside Ealien he silent kneels, 
Life, too, from her seemed to have flown, 
Unmindful of those wild appeals 
His gaze was fixed on her alone. 
Towards De Neville Frangois turned, 
" To thee I plead now in this hour ; 
I killed him when this eve I learned 
He ruled thy child with hidden power." 

Amazement now marked every face ; 
** 'Tis as I thought," Earl Clinton spoke. 
** Yon wretch with powers, inhuman, base. 
Held her blank mind within his yoke, 
And heaven abandoned, sacrificed 
Yon wretches to their victim's will, 
Who perpetrates unrealized. 
That he its vengeful mandates fill — 
The temple of iniquity 
They reared around yon youth's fair fame, 
Hath crumbled from malignity 
And bared the baseness of their shame." 



132 EALIEN AND LENA RD. 

'* My daughter lives," De Neville cries ; 
" My child, one word speak for my sake ;" 
As Ealien's feebly opening eyes 
From dark oblivion's realms now break. 
" Away with him ! I would not she 
Should see his form beside her bend, 
Who would have murdered ruthlessly. 
Had not kind fate to us been friend. 
Away, Lenard ! forever go ; 
I may have wronged thee — never she. 
That thou this cursed spleen should show, 
As told yon wretch, in prophecy." 

Not till these words had reached his ears 
Had Lenard's eyes from Ealien turned ; 
Then to his chaosed mind appears 
At last the truth — her plot discerned. 

He turns, as Francois trembling sees 
The fierce light of his angered eye — 
" Now, wretch, thou must confess to these 
If Ealien sought that I should die ; 
Wert thou my friend or Zandi's slave ? 
Speak, thou, to seek me in this hour, 
When maddened, me thou access gave 
To her, so helpless in my power. 
Hear me," he pleads — his haggard look 
Turns to De Neville — " hear my tale. 
Ere thou, if human, would rebuke 



THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I 33 

Or me 'gainst her of hate, assail 
She whom I loved, he told me there, 
Within yon loathsome cell — as friend. 
Where thou consigned, he did repair. 
That she by him my life would end. 
/ frenzied, here I sought the doom 
Foretold by her would me await — 
Wliom I thought dead, the lake her tomb. 
Hath lived to track my steps with hate — 
'Twas she whom they have said I wronged, 
That yonder lies, self-murdered she — 
Who hath my mind, yes haunted, thronged 
With this night's scene in prophecy ; 
I knew her not disguised — but thou. 
Who wert her slave, hath known her will ; 
Speak here !" — and, seizing FranQois — ** now, 
Curse thee, tell all, or thee I'll kill !" 

In fear, despairing, Frangois told 
Of that dread scene in Zandi's cave — 
The plot, the hour, the schemes unfold 
Orlander's hope, Ealien to save 
From shame, that in the power contained 
Within his dark, unfathomed eye. 
Her whom he loved, to have retained — 
To wed and Zandi's will defy. 
'Twas her base scheme, he pleads, that I 
Had sought thy cell to liberate. 



I 34 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

When I recounted, thou must die 
By EaHen's wish, thou in thy hate — 
Should seek her when she knew thee not — 
Enthralled by his commanding w^ill — 
And thou, the victim of her plot, 
Ealien, who loved thee, thou would kill. 

" Hear him !" De Neville moans, " and she 
That virtue, kissed to fairer bloom — 
Thou sayest through his potency 
She sought my child in shame to doom." 

*' Her spirit like the mirror's sphere, 
Revealed but back his soul's reflex ; 
For this, 'twas Zandi brought him here, 
Who could alone her w^ill annex. 
And w^eave for her revenge the shame 
When she, obedient to his will. 
Would witless, these her vows defame, 
And thou, Lenard, would Ealien kill." 
" Away with him !" De Neville screamed, 
" Hell left its basest brood behind. 
Since thou to win her base demeaned. 
Shall here deserving justice find." 

De Neville fraught with poignant grief — 
" Lenard," he breathes, " I have thee wronged ; 
To all they told I gav^e belief. 
And knew not plotters round me thronged." 

" Save me Lenard," the words now moaned, 



THE SHADO W OF A PROPHECY. I 3 5 

Steals to his ears ; how wild he cried — 
" Away !" he madly shouts, '* I owned — 
Her love was mine once ere she died." 

At his wild cry her wistful look 
Turns yearning to his fevered eyes, 
But reason's throne had tottered, shook — 
Too late her love to recognize. 

As waking from some dreaded trance, 
Her will so long enslaved is free ; 
The eye that ruled now stilled its glance ; 
Thus died the unfilled prophecy. 

During the depiction of Lenard's efforts to secure 
one word of recognition from Ealien, and its fruitless re- 
sult, my heart fluctuated between hope and despair, till 
the frustration of Zandi's scheme, "or Agnes, now more 
aptly termed," by the death of the hypnotist, with the 
abrupt termination of his influence over the hapless crea- 
ture. Then hope lived, exhilarated by the terrible 
ordeal through, which the lovers had passed when hear- 
ing of the abandonment of Lenard's reason, a climax to 
his long and trying sufferings. " And thus the mahgnity 
of that woman," I murmured, "who imagined herself 
slighted by his boyish whim, succeeded, though her life 
was the penalty, in destroying the happiness, the reason 
of the unfortunate companion of a brief period in the life 
of that monstrous woman." " No," he replied, and as we 
traced our way back to the village my friend related the 
happy event that took place on the restoration of Lenard 
to health and reason. 



1 36 E ALIEN AND LENARD, 

FINALE. 

Months had elapsed, the autumn gold 
With yellow tints the groaning eves, 
And kissed as in the sear grown old 
With soft aurated breath the leaves ; 
All nature's face resplendent shone 
Beneath Aurora's waking light. 
And every leaf a jewelled throne 
That bore the tear drops of the night. 
Upon the morning air now floats — 
From belfry high each brazen tongue 
Flings out its wildly surging notes 
In pealing anthems joyous rung ; 
From Rufus Hall, a cavalcade 
Deploying on caparisoned steeds — 
And in advance a youth and maid, 
The morning cortege smiHng leads. 
The smiling youth, Lenard Morrell, 
His cheeks aglow with manly pride — 
In buoyancy his spirits swell 
Ealien at last to be his bride. 
Through weary days the reaper Death 
Had hovered o'er her weakening frame. 
Till love's resuscitating breath 
Like balm, from Lenard's presence came. 
He, too, upon the threshold lay 



THE SHADO W OF A PROPHECY, I 3 / 

Where mocking phantoms wildly surged, 

They saw his mind with grave disma}' 

Within the shades of madness verge ; 

In fancy wrecked, his form had tossed — 

His tireless cry she yet loved me, 

Ealien to me, is ever lost 

By thy revengeful prophecy. 

The face of Zandi night and day 

His pleadings wild, her spectre mocked, 

Till fever's bane relaxed its sway — 

His friends that loved around him flocked. 

'' Lenard, thy darkest days have flown !" 
In feehng tones De Neville said, 
" Thou shalt at last thy Ealien own 
When thou, Lenard, art well, to wed." 

At last Lenard in joy beholds 
Those lips that will her love repeat ; 
As to the sun the rose unfolds — 
Her blushing smile his gift to greet 
The morning, Ealien, seems more fair ! 
Since from the gloom we love the light, 
So in the future now to share 
Our love, the past shall well requite 
When perils like a cloud beset 
To hide thy love awhile from me 
But all — who did her curse abet 
Hath died — with Zandi' s prophecy. 



1 3 8 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 

Needless to say more than in the Sanctuary made 
sacred by my love for Margaret, that evening my asper- 
nation for the young poet's aspirations assumed a milder 
spirit. As a parting criticism, ere I closed the chapter of 
Henry's poetical dissertation, I reminded him that, had 
the youth Lenard been compos mentis, the story of 
Ealien and Lenard ; or, the Shadow of a Prophecy, would, 
indeed, have been a pitiable travesty in the hands of an 
embryo poet. 




PREFACE. 



The miscellaneous poems, supplemented, appear like 
the shattered remnants of the eagerly-constructed altars 
of admiration that stand out retrospectively along the 
paths of imagination, marking the resting-place where 
thought hesitated, catching the miraged picture of fancy, 
then too hastily abandoned ere words had portrayed be- 
yond the sphere of mediocrity the transient pictures. 
Amongst the subjoined poems will be found evidence 
that I have gi\'en the city of my adoption some little of 
my humble consideration. The whole, being of the ex- 
temporaneous order, are offered to the public, lacking- 
further apology from the author. 

In idle hours the truant-thought 

Utopia's golden shores bereave 
Of dreams within her mazes wrought, 

Then linking truth with fancy's weave. 




Though poets may sing of the beauties displayed 

By the Rhine's lofty banks, or the Danube's blue shades, 

Yet arrayed in thy mantle by Nature's choice care, 

I still think thee peerless, thou Schuylkill, so fair. — Norman. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 45 

BEAUTIES OF THE SCHUYLKILL. 

Oft on thy banks with pleasure I've strayed, 
Charmed by the scenery that Nature thee gave, 
And wondered could others have adornments as rare. 
Or rival thy beauty, thou Schuylkill, so fair. 

Those little green isles, that so reposefully rest. 

Seem nestled so calmly away in thy breast, 

Make me think that thy kindness, in shielding, them 

there, 
But enhances thy beauty, thou Schuylkill, so fair. 

Those rocks towering over, stern time to defy, 
Add grandeur to beauty, and charm every eye ; 
Thy banks clothed in verdure, and balm laden air, 
Make thee more enchanting, thou Schuylkill, so fair. 

Though poets may sing of the beauties displayed 
By the Rhine's lofty banks, or the Danube's blue shades, 
Yet arrayed in thy mantle by Nature's choice care, 
I still think thee peerless, thou Schuylkill, so fair. 

And midst thy attractions with pleasure I'd stay, 
And still think thee lovelier as each passing day 
My footsteps would hie me in tranquillity to share. 
Each day closing o'er thee, thou Schuylkill, so fair. 



146 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



IMMORTAL LINCOLN. 

In answer to a query as to the author's estimation of Lincohi. 

Were I possessed of Milton's tongue or held an inspired 
pen, 

To justly speak of him who stood pre-eminent to men, 

The lofty grandeur of whose soul, no menial passions 
swayed. 

The noble impulse of whose life no pen* hath yet por- 
trayed. 

Whose scintillating genius towered as mountains tower 
o'er sea, 

Yet round his majesty of soul hung calm simplicity. 

His noble mind soared far above where drifts the selfish 
tide, 

His only aim a Nation's good, their glory was his pride. 

'Twas he, bold Lincoln, hero, chief, humanity's first friend. 
That dared the slavish bonds to burst — the loathsome 

chains to rend ; 
His giant mind alone could grasp, and with their perils 

cope, 
When in the Nation's darkest hour he stood her brightest 

hope. 

* The pen is as inadequate to portray the nobihty of the illustrious Lin- 
coln as the inspired brush of the painter to transmit to canvas the realism 
of a golden sunset. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 47 

What other land could boast a son whose deeds reflect 

the grace, 
The sacred life, that marked him as the saviour of a race ? 
Had fate ordained for him the task, so well the deed 

were done, 
That while the Nation's glories live so will their fame 

be one. 

Ambitious men have lived and strove to gain a mighty 

name, 
But Lincoln's altruistic life more honored still became. 
His only dream, his onh' hope — that all men might be 

free, 
And in one Brotherhood alone a nation w^e should be. 
And memory w^ill around his name its sweetest garlands 

twine, 
And every star upon the flag from fields of blue that 

shine 
Adds lustre to the glory that round his name will cling — 
The first of all Americans — amongst all men a king. 



148 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE DERVISH FLAG-BEARER. 

Written after the Battle of Obdurman. 

Fate marked the pale glimmered rays of the morning 

As the Sirdar advanced, when his lines gathered nigh 
To brave where Khalifa's proud banner was borne in 

The legions that soon 'neath its emblem must die. 
Round his dark banner the spearmen assemble, 

Assailing the welkin, their fierce slogan strain — 
Dashing his horsemen like breakers that tremble, 

Leap to that hell with its steel-barbed rain ; 
Ride to their doom where awful in splendor 

Advances the line of Britannia's steel wall ; 
Swept on that dark-turbaned host — no surrender. 

As fast in its death-vale his grim horsemen fall. 
Crushed lay Khalifa's bold horsemen, yet fearless 

Charges his footmen like leaves when the breath 
Of the tornado sweeps, and the woodlands bow leafless 

Rolls on his brave to the maelstrom of death, 
Assail with their death cry, defiantly hurling. 

Their dark banner waves o'er the red plain of blood, 
Where charged his grim host from the battle's wreath 
curling — 

Unyielding the last of his warriors stood ; 
Stood where its emblem above him still flaunted 

And waved to the world its last heroes' d^fy ; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 1 49 

That stood like the last god of war, who, undaunted, 

Holds aloft his doomed ensign, intrepid, to die : 
Grasping the stave of that dark fated banner, 

That loomed o'er the pyre of the holocaust slain — 
Unholy the cause ! yet its last stern defender 

Defiant still stands, where the fell missiles rain — 
Dying, he falls ! the drooping folds bore he — 

Veiling the past, the furled robes but tell 
Of one Spartan deed to wreath it with glory, 

How he, the last Dervish defending it, fell. 




I50 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE IRISH MINSTREL. 

He took the harp that hung for years 

Within his old ancestral hall, 
And gazed upon the frame with tears, 

Whose silent chords could yet recall — 
With wordless voice could sweetly tell — 

And breathe to him its glorious strain ; 
His withered fingers touched the chords, 

And woke its slumbering voice again. 

It sprang to life with martial air, 

And told of Clontarf's bloody field — 
Of valiant Irish legions there. 

That forced the Danish pride to yield. 
It spoke of one brave, valorous son 

Whose heart the nation found so true, 
That led on Clontarf's field and won 

A deathless fame — her brave Boru. 

In sad, weird tones, it softly told, 

" Its chords now mellowed to a sigh," 

Of one so fearless, brave and bold. 
That fate consigned to early lie 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 151 

Within the grave, with fame to sleep 

Till marshalled forth when freedom cries ; 

And martyred Emmet's name shall keep 
To live where victory's paeans rise. 

Along each chord with master hand 

The aged minstrel's fingers swept, 
To sound the glories of his land 

Ere yet her sons in bondage wept, 
Ere yet her emerald-crested shore 

Had known the alien tyrant's tread ; 
Has time but dimmed her glories o'er, 

Or are they now for ever fled ? 




152 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

BABY MINE. 

Little eyes of heaven's blue, 
Baby mine, baby mine — 

Lustered from their depths so true, 
Baby mine, baby mine, 

Through the darkness oft will gleam. 
Like a ray of heaven's beams. 

Bringing back sweet childhood's dream- 
Baby mine, baby mine. 

Oft from hours of weary care. 

Baby mine, baby mine — 
Stealing bliss, with thee to share — 

Baby mine, baby mine ; 
Like a bud kissed by the dew. 

When its fragrance comes anew, 
Making life, ah ! fondly true — 

Baby mine, baby mine. 

Treasured wealth in Afric's shores, 

Baby mine, baby mine — 
Hidden in its fabled stores, 

Baby mine, baby mine ; 
Could not half the joys contain, 

Or the blissful moments gain. 
That those little eyes retain — 

Baby mine, baby mine. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. I 55 



THE HERO OF CHANCELLORSVILLE. 

A grateful nation drops a tear upon the martial bier 

Where Chancellorsville's brave hero lies calmly sleeping 
there. 

Not once, but twice, didst thou respond in the nation's 
hour of need ; 

When other names shall be forgot shall live thy noble 
deeds. 

Thine was the master mind to plan, the skilful hand to 
guide ; 

Where Pennsylvania's gallant eight a thousand deaths 
defied ! 

On ! On ! they rushed, the Southern hosts, with Howard 
in retreat. 

Till like a rock amidst the storm the chivalrous eight 
they meet. 

E^ach man of that brave band leaped forth, within him- 
self a host. 

Could braver deeds, or nobler men, war's fiercest rec- 
ords boast ? 

Charge ! was the order. On they dashed, like tigers to 
the fray ; 

Eager each man the foe to meet, in battle's fierce 
array. 



156 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

They dash against those solid Hues, they stay that 
onward rush ; 

Like wheat beneath the reaper's scythe they reel, they 
stagger, crushed ! 

Heroic deed ! Intrepid charge ! Oh, noble sacrifice. 

The fearful cost of that brave deed those thinned ranks 
testifies. 

Where but a brief short span before, so eager to 
obey 

The orders of their gallant chief — cold, lifeless, now 
they lay. 

One noble impulse led them on to check that onward 
tide — 

'Twas not in vain those heroes fought, 'twas not in vain 
they died ! 

Though beaten now and driven back, like foam from an 
angry sea ; 

In that respite brave Pleasanton quick massed artil- 
lery. 

On ! On ! they press, the stubborn foe defiant to at- 
tack ; 

Before that stream of living fire their lines are driven 
back. 

And night closed over upon the scene where fell so 
many brave — 

The hero of Chancellorsville had Hooker's army saved. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 15/ 



A NATION'S LOSS. 

Deep stillness reigned, not a zephyr stirred 

To ruffle the face of the ocean's crest. 
Unconscious of peril — "three bells " is heard — 

All in the Maine, save the watch, are at rest, 
When, crashing, piercing, to burst the gloom, 

The thundering echoes of hell seemed woke, 
Hurling its souls to untimely doom, 

Shrouding their forms in the fire and smoke. 
Stirring the heavens with its thunderous peals, 

Arousing the echoes along the deep, 
Lighting the pyre of the brave reveals 

Them, mangled and bleeding, rushing from sleep. 
Guarding our honor, ruthless it came 

Charging — ^the reaper of Death o'er our brave. 
Crushed by the breath of its death-dealing flame. 

Bleeding and helpless, sink in the wave. 
Dying for duty, some calmly rest 

Where murmuring ocean's requiems sigh, 
Some far away from the land they loved best. 

On the soil of an alien, as strangers, they die. 
Unwept, there they laid them, save by the tear 

Of the comrade that falls on the sod where they he. 



158 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Unknown to the stranger, their names will appear 

When the hearts that have loved them no longer are 
nigh ; 
But grateful Columbia — deep is her pain — 
Duty hath made ye her bravest and best. 
Heroic sailors, guarding her Maine, 

Her eyes, dimmed with tears, watch the graves where 
ye rest. 



DEVOTION. 



Time may rob thee of thy beauty, 

Age may steal such charms as thine ; 
Then 'twill be my fondest duty 

Loving thee in its decline. 
Affections, living 'midst its ruins 

When its splendors pass away, 
Nourished by its former beauty 

Ere it crumbled to decay. 




Within thy humble walls have sat the learned and the brave, 

The wise, the just and prudent, that to a nation gave 

The secret of her greatness, when their immortal pen 

Inscribed the words on Freedom's page, equality of men. — Norman. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. l6l 



LINES DEDICATED TO INDEPENDENCE 
HALL. 

Around thy old and sombre walls a sacred memory 
clings, 

Reminded of thy glorious past whene'er thy old bell 
rings. 

No siren's voice was ever heard, in lyric's softest 
strain, 

With notes as dear to freeman's heart as when thy bell 
proclaimed 

Oppression's rule was ended ; at last a nation free. 

In hymns of praise her notes rang out the birth of lib- 
erty. 

Within thy humble walls have sat the learned and the 

brave, 
The wise, the just and prudent, that to a nation gave 
The secret to her greatness, when their immortal pen 
Inscribed the words, on freedom's page, equality of 

men. 
Each word of that famed document undying lustre 

sheds 
Its halo round thy old dim walls where first its lines 

were read. 



1 62 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Thy sacred walls have caught the breath, the incense of 
whose word 

Hath fired a million patriot hearts and million souls hath 
stirred. 

Thy walls still echo back the tones, as spoke immortal 
Lee : 

"Why hesitate in thraldom's chains? no tyrant's slaves 
are we !" 

Where sprang to life the smouldering spark a people to 
inspire 

And build within each patriot's soul the light of free- 
dom's fire. 

Thy halls were consecrated by the breath of freedom's 

flame. 
Within thy hallowed sanctuary burst forth a nation's 

claim. 
It rose in mighty grandeur, and rolled from sea to sea, 
It shook the tyrant's sceptred hand, it made a nation 

free. 
When freedom marks her birthplace upon the scroll of 

fame, 
Indelibly her hand will trace upon its page thy name. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 63 



DEDICATED TO MOTHER. 

I sit sometimes and ponder 

Of a home across the sea, 
With years that love grows fonder 

Makes its thoughts so sweet to me. 
They circle round a mother 

With a smile of long ago, 
Love ne'er had gave another 

With a purer soul, I know. 

When in the morn of babyhood 

Her gentle hand would guide 
Each faltering step so timorous would 

With eager joy step to her side. 
Distending years have grown apace, 

Receding o'er life's measured strand, 
I see again in dreams her face. 

And feel again her guiding hand. 

O ! guiding hand of mother's love — 

What depth the word contains, 
Within the sacred alcove 

Of a mother's heart remains ! 
A love the beating storms of time, 

The fleeting years could not impair ; 
In fancy on her knee I climb, 

And lisp again the evening prayer. 



164 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

! could I bridge the past to-night 
On fancy's wings the lost years span, 

Or through the time's fast dimming light 
With eager gaze her kind face scan ; 

Each line upon her brow would tell 

How time's harsh hand had chiseled there 

Its cruel trace, and left to dwell 

The snows of winters midst her hair. 

1 see again, though dimly now. 

Through vistas of the ghost-like past 
As dim the shades close o'er her brow 

To hide it as I saw it last. 
Sweet dream of childhood's happy home ! 

Above thy scenes would memory trace 
And build upon its hallowed throne 

The picture of a mother's face. 




MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 65 



ODE TO PHILADELPHIA. 

On the occasion of her Peace Jubilee. 

What municipal grandeur 

With our city can compare, 
Or rival in the splendor 

That her lucent records bear ? 
Where the famous goddess nestled, 

And her form the hydriads fold 
Where freedom's halo trestled, 

Every scene I now behold. 

Thy sons in civic concord 

Make imperial thy decree. 
What though it be that freedom's sword 

Leaps forth ? 'Tis unity ! 
Or the plea for palliation 

Of distress to thee appealed, 
Their hearts, as one pulsation, 

To their importunings yield. 

Unrivalled thy escutcheon ! 

Mirage through the ages dreamed. 
Till beamed emancipation 

When thy fire of freedom gleamed. 



1 66 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

The lustre of its morning 
Thy environs radiate ; 

Each land, its light adorning. 
Makes its natal city great. 

Proud city, fame's Valhalla ! 

As the ark of old, to thee, 
From scenes of freemen's valor, 

Wings the dove of liberty. 
To thee the garland bearing. 

Tribute from the unchained free 
With thee, exultant, sharing 

Freedom's sire — thy Jubilee. 




MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 6/ 

THE NATION'S DEAD. 

O'er the grave where silent sleeps, 

Spirit of our honored dead, 
Marching- time will treasured keep 

Fresh the fame of they who bled. 
Braying trumpets w^oke them often, 

Death has played its last sad call — 
Many lie in graves forgotten, 

Shrouded in the warrior's pall. 

They who midst the din of battle 

When the Nation called to arms. 
Stood where bullets fiercely rattled 

Hear no more its dread alarms ; 
Braving where the shrieking cannon, 

Wafting on its fiery breath, 
Messengers of fell destruction 

Courted there the Spartan's death. 

They whose sabres in the sunlight 

Flashed beneath its fiercest ray, 
Resting but when waning twilight 

Closed o'er combats of the day, 
And who oft beneath the standard 

Bore aloft its glorious fold, 
Charging where our legions conquered, 

Lived not triumph to behold. 



1 68 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

O'er every field whereon they fell, 

Above where sculptured sentinels rise^ 
That will to unborn ages tell 

Wherein the Nation's hero lies ; 
That o'er the warrior's tranquil sleep 

The stranger's foot might lightly tread 
To light the very calm would keep 

Its vigil o'er our sacred dead. 

O Mother Earth, death's mighty Urn ! 

Where now heroic ashes rest ; 
No more the patriot's love shall burn — 

Or fire again their martial breast ; 
The altar of their sacrifice, 

Columbia's dauntless sons revealed, 
That paid to war too well the price. 

And found the Spartan's bloody shield. 



'i^i^g^^ 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 69 



WAR, THE RUTHLESS ARBITER. 

Lines depicting regret at the loss of so many brave men at the fight of 
San Juan Hill. 

What glories yet have men found in thy tongue ? 
That thus barbaric war thy deeds are sung, 
When smiHng peace in rarest blessings gave 
Its students crowns that far eclipse thy brave ; 
Thou hadst no place ; could man but nobler feel 
How brief thy fame, thy appanage of weal ; 
Where lives a Caesar with Demosthenes ? 
A martial fame to rival Socrates. 

The prancing steed, the hostile struggle o'er ; 
The victors' plaudits wake the victors' shore, 
The pageants vanish, the salvo's still, 
Thy victims mark the distant plain and hill. 
Not numbered by thy hand th' victims fall, 
Thy bloody sum, the peaceful homes appall ; 
And peace had left unbroken where thy step 
Fond ties dispart, and loved, from loved ones, slept. 

Can all the vain applause that girth thy dead 
One pain recall that rack'd the sleeper's head? 



I70 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 

Or tears that fall as dewdrops at the morn. 

Solace the hearts from love's sweet bondage torn ? 

Or glory see wherein the spectre's rise. 

The simulachre of its sacrifice : 

The sword that rusts the longest from its sheen 

Brings joys that war's grim visage has not seen. 




MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. \J\ 



THE SOLICITUDE OF LOVE. 

When the bhghting hand of years 

Shall wither thy fair brow, 
My love for thee shall be as dear, 

As sacred, as when thou, 
A bud, I found just blooming 

In Diana's favored bower, 
I took thee for thy beauty. 

As the fairest of her flowers. 

Launched upon life's sea together 

O'er the stormy waves of time, 
Our devoted bark shall weather 

Every storm to sweet sunshine ; 
And our love shall, like the roses, 

Bloom afresh each coming May, 
And I'll keep in sweet remembrance 

All thy blushes of to-day. 



1/2 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



AN IRISH GREETING. 

Show me a land where the emerald green, 

So bright, so refreshing, so pleasant, is seen, 

As that Pearl of the Ocean, washed by the blue, 

Whose sons are so valiant, whose daughters so true ; 

Where virtue resplendent shines over her land, 

Good-natured the smile and a trust in each hand, 

And the " Cead Melia Faith "* to the stranger you hear. 

With a rollic of humor that, ever so dear, 

Not a land on the footstool of Nature could boast ; 

Where its sons give, with cheer and good-nature, the 

toast. 
And men as a brother they meet with a smile 
In an old Irish home in that Emerald Isle. 

When you see the sun kissing her balm-laden shore 
In his gay coat of gold, from the east peeping o'er. 
And you hear the kind greeting, the bright, jovial song 
Of her sons and her daughters who round you would 

throng. 
They'd make your heart glad, if in sadness you roam. 
With a kind, cheery word in their old roof-thatched home. 
No palace of splendor, where opulence reigns, 
Ere knew half the love that their cottage contains. 



A thousaml welcomes. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 73 

"Tis an Eden of love in their home you will find, 
With a father and mother so genial and kind. 
In filial devotion the parent is blest 

Till the green sward has mantled the place where they 
rest. 



RETROSPECT. 



Lines suggested by a withered rose, the gift of a young lady, now deceased, 
to her sweetheart. 

I am thinking, darling Nellie, 

Of the years long, long ago, 
And the evening that we parted, 

As I saw you sadder grow ; 
And the little flower you gave me 

As I spoke in love's soft strain, 
And I told you how I'd love it 

Till we would meet again. 
Oh ! how the years have flown since then ! 

Could love for thee grow cold ? 
I see thee in the twilight still 

As in the days of old ; 
I see the sweet, soft, blushing rose 

You gave, with love's kind wish — 
The priceless treasure from your hand. 

My darling, that I kiss. 



174 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

REFRAIN. 

'Tis a little withered flower, yet its every leaf contains 

A link of love that binds to other years. 
As I took it in its freshness from my darling's trembling 

hand, 
'Twas made sacred by the chrism of her tears. 

* * * jK ' * * * 

I am sitting in the moonlight, 

As we did long years ago ; 
I am gazing on this token. 

Though it's withered now I know. 
Yet each dead leaf holds a picture 

Of a face once fair and bright, 
So full of hope, my darling, 

As we parted on that night. 
And the kiss you placed upon it — 

How I'd kiss it back again, 
To your spirit, my sweet darling. 

Could I one soft smile attain ; 
But the hand that culled the flower 

Is long since stilled by death ; 
Its faded folds to me retain 

Love's priceless treasure yet. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 7 5, 

BABY FASHION. 

There was little baby laughing, 

And in childish voice was prattling. 
She was trying for to make us understand 

That the many things she saw 

Didn't seem like baby law, 
And to her mind were not like baby fashion. 

What she would call a rule 

Was to climb upon a stool ; 
She thought that interference was quite rude. 

Just let her go ahead, 

Break and smash up to a shred ; 
Then things would be done up in baby fashion. 

Just let her take the cat, 

Hold it up by tail or back. 
Should that tabby bite or scratch her, why — what then ?' 

Has she not agreed to all 

When she first began to maul 
That wretched cat in true-like baby fashion ? 

When she gets it in her head, 

She'll refuse to go to bed, 
And to make her is, she thinks, against the rule, 

Just let her scream and cry 

Till you think she's going to die. 
Then she'll go and sleep in true-like baby fashion. 



76 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



AGE'S REGRET. 

I sit by the wayside of life so weary, 

And look back again on the days that are o'er, 
And see, through the years, alas ! grown so dreary. 

Each childhood's companion now trooping before. 
In phantom-like shape, each happier vision 

From the bright morn of life recurs to my brain. 
And faces that memory had almost forgotten. 

Through Cimmerian shades come peering again. 

I see the old schoolhouse, the playground, the master 

So kind, yet austere, till each duty was done. 
As there, 'midst the old scenes of bright boyish laughter. 

With pleasure he'd gambol and join in the fun. 
But death set its seal on the dear, kind old mentor ; 

Bereaved of his presence, each one felt the pain. 
Through that first veil of sorrow the old school to enter, 

I see those sad faces now loom up again. 

Once more, in bright fancy, I tread the old green lane, 
I scent the sweet balm of the white hawthorn bush ; 

I list to the lark as it carols its sweet strain, 

To answer with gladness the notes of the thrush. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 7/ 

As o'er the still calm of the bright Sabbath morning 
Broke the far-away tones from some quaint village fane, 

Who's echoing notes come back like a warning 
To sunmion my fancy to childhood again. 

Enraptured, I've gazed on scenery, though fairer, 

Where the tall, waving pines peer away in the blue. 
And Nature, invested with charms that are rarer, 

Yet none crowd my memory with thoughts sweet as 
you. 
They halo around the home of my childhood. 

And link to the past w^hen years weave the chain, 
And transport with joy every dream to thy wildwood. 

To roam its environs, untrammeled, again. 




y^ MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE ORPHAN'S DREAM. 

By an aged woman sitting, 

With his head upon her knee, 
Was a httle fellow sleeping, 

So calm, so tranquilly. 
Till o'er his youthful features 

Stole a look of troubled pain — 
He was dreaming of a mother 

He ne'er would see again. 

In childlike dreams he'd sought her 

Through dreamland's wide expanse, 
Where they told angels brought her 

He'd sought with eager glance, 
Amidst its silvery mountains, 

In its halls of beauteous gold, 
Where its iridescent fountains 

Heaven's brightest tints unfold. 

Till at last within the labyrinth 
Of that bright celestial land. 

Amidst its glittering cohorts 
He saw his mother stand. 

In his dreams the boy was saying, 
" Mamma, dear, why did you go ? 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 1/9 

They told me you were praying 
For the boy that you loved so. 

"The strange dark man that took you, 

When grandma bitter cried, 
In a snow-white box they placed you — 

I heard them say you died ; 
And round you they placed flowers, 

And some gates that stood ajar, 
That led to heavenly bowers — 

But, mamma, it is so far. 

*' I know you did not leave me, 

If you did I know you'd cry ; 
I sought for you, my mamma, 

When I thought you would be nigh, 
And now that I have found you, 

You'll let me take you home, 
And we will love you O, so, too, 

That you'll never, never roam. 

" You know that grandma loves so 

To speak of you all day. 
And now I'll take you back, though 

'Tis a long and weary way. 
The angels they will know, too, 

'Twas a little boy that sought, 
And here, in heaven, found you, 

His mamma back he brought. 



l8d MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

"And I'll gather pretty lilies 

To place upon your brow, 
And of the sweetest daffodils — 

I have some home just now — 
For to-day within the meadows 

I was looking for you there, 
And I gathered them for sweet bows 

To place within your hair. 

" Why don't you speak, my mamma ? 

Why do you look so strange ? 
Your face has grown so sad, too, 

I know not why you change ; 
You always looked so kindly, 

But now you make me weep," 
And, looking round so strangely. 

The boy woke from his sleep ! 

" O, grandma, I have found her 
In such a lovely place, 
Where angels, too, surround her, 
I saw at last her face." 

;(5 ;)c ^ ^ : 

" My child, it only was a dream, 
Your mother's dead, you know, 
They laid her in a dreamless sleep 
In the grave long, long ago." 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. l8l 



THE BLIND BOY'S STORY. 

I remember well one evening, 
When all nature looked so glad, 

By an old and rustic dwelling-place 
I saw a poor blind lad. 

He sat beside the little porch 

That bore an humble air ; 
In sympathy my heart was touched 

For that blind boy sitting there. 

I approached the boy and kindly asked 

If to me he would relate 
By what misfortune he had come 

To such a poor blind state. 

' Kind sir," he said, " I never knew 

The blessing of my sight 
Since childhood. I was always blind. 
I never saw the light. 

■' They tell me that all nature 
Looks so lovely and so fair, 
That verdant hills are daisy-clad, 
And flowers bloom everywhere. 



1 82 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

" But though the fields I cannot see, 
The trees or flowers gay — 
I know the summer time is here 
By the scent of new-mown hay. 

" Oft in the pleasant evening, 

When from school they wend their way, 
I hear the merry boys and girls 
Out in the lane at play. 

" Yet, though I cannot see them. 
When I hear their shouts of joy 
It makes me oh ! so sad to think 
I am a poor blind boy. 

" I hear the little birds, at morn, 
Pipe out their sweetest lay ; 
Their tender eyes seem filled with joy 
To greet the coming day. 

" Kind sir, you must be happy, 
Who have the gift of sight, 
To see this world so wondrous fair, 
With all its grand delights. 

** While here on earth I cannot see, 
I know there'll come a day 
When He, who gave to each their sight. 
Will tear this veil away. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 1 83 

Then I'll see, with eyes immortal, 
Splendors far beyond compare, 
Of which St. Paul has told us, 
Human eye hath not seen there." 



CONSTANCY. 

Allegorical Poem. 



Two flowers in a garden, a lily and a rose. 

The sun it was just sinking as they hung in sweet repose, 

The rose it blushed with pleasure, 

But the lily paled with grief, 
As each kissed back the sunlight, 

As it faded on the leaf 

Like the friends we've known in other years 

Ere skies had grown o'ercast, 
How many cling in constancy 

When sunshine's rays have past? 
How many, like the fickle rose, 

When its fairest beams have set. 
That smiled with us in fortune's hour. 

Could now each kindly look forget ? 
As o'er each friend when fortune smiled. 

We loved o'er them its beams to shed, 
Like the fickle rose its waning light 

Found their hallowed friendship dead. 



1 84 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Like the retrospective lily 

Are the friends we find so true, 
That gather in life's sunset 

When friends, indeed, are few, 
And remember in its twilight, 

When its golden rays are past, 
That friends, indeed, are true that live 

And love until the last. 




MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 85 

LINES ON ADMIRAL DEWEY. 

Shades of the brave that o'er the crest 

Of Neptune's vast and wide domain, 
When ages shall your deeds attest, 

And each his worth, one shall remain 
Whose name above the galaxy 

Of Neptune's warrior sons shall rise. 
That led our bloodless victory 

Above the despot's sacrifice. 

Dark as Ahriman's gloom the night. 

Where sceptred hand held tyrant sway, 
His ships convoyed the morn of light. 

His valor woke there freedom's day. 
From ages of oppression's sleep 

They hailed with joy his paean 'd cry ; 
They saw aloft his ensign leap — 

Columbia's free-born sons were nigh. 

O ! who shall tell ; gauge not the worth 

Of victory where its plaudits rise 
Beyond the brave ; that laurels girth 

A people's dream of freedom lies ; 
Though bold thy deed, Columbia's chief. 

Not there alone thy fame shall rest ! 
Fame marks thy name, and on its leaf 

Who honor knows lives honored best. 

Written after Battle of Manila. 



1 86 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE LITTLE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH ON 
NEW YEAR'S MORN. 

In a quiet little cottage, 

Where a mother's care was shown, 
Sat a broken-hearted father, 

Who had loved his happy home. 
His look of deep dejection told 

That grief and pain were there, 
He heeded not those joyous sounds, 

Borne on the midnight air. 

His little one was dying, 

The boy he loved so dear, 
And as he sat with bated breath, 

A childish prayer could hear. 
He clasped those little wasted hands, 

And said, with falling tear : 
Thy guardian angel calls thee forth 

Unto his heavenly sphere. 

■^ ^. 'jf^ -i^^ ^ -^ 

How sad that little cottage now, 

Since his childish soul has fled. 
They know he only sleeps awhile, 

That his spirit is not dead. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



187 



And there amongst the heavenly throng 

He constantly will pray 
To be united with us all, 

In heaven some New Year's day. 




1 88 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



GOOD-BYE, OLD BIKE! 

My bicycle, my bicycle, I know at last thou'rt sold — 

'Tis true, thy frame was heavy, thy appearance some- 
what old ; 

I thought thee once so beautiful, but when they hallooed 
''ice!" 

I thought not of thy charms again, but of thy selling 
price. 

I've mounted thee and fallen off, and mounted thee again, 
And when the crowd would guy thee, I felt " sufficed 

with shame." 
I realized thy beauty then was of no latter day, 
When wanton urchins hallooed out, " give that thing 

away." 

And oft upon thy sturdy frame 'gainst wheels of modern 

make 
I'd try some httle burst of speed to leave them in a race ; 
But bursts of laughter, jests and jeers from callous ones 

around 
Convinced me thou had'st grown too old and weighed 

too many pounds. 



MISCELLANEOVS POEMS. 1 89 

Thy pace grew slow and toilsome, and thy antiquated 

frame 
Made thee the small boy's target, but thou wert not to 

blame. 
There was a time they'd call thee new, but that was. 

long ago, 
At last, my poor old aged bike, I had to let thee go. 




I90 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



INCEPTION OF LOVE. 

Away in the years ere the world could be 
From its birth to its age a century 
The stars were new and their lustre shone 
More effulgent then, ere they'd older grown ; 
And the spheric moon, with his rotund face, 
Had a sly'r look than he now gives place, 
For his noctivigations lower stood 
Till he grew alarmed when he saw the flood, 
And the sun rode bright, his diurnal track 
Untraced by the belt of the zodiac. 
No care had the planets to mar delight 
By the hampering whim of the satellite. 
And thus encompassed did a maiden see 
In the morning of love — felicity. 

Yet my tale would now of a scene relate 
Of a youth and a love that grew sensate 
When he sought her hand that he might adore — 
That his tongue, like the sighing stream, could pour 
The breath of his love from that passion' d breast 
As they flow surcharged to the ocean's crest. 
For love, unalloyed, as the virgin flame 
From ethereal realms of inception came. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 19I 

As the pristine breath, when in Eden God 

From celestial climes sought the lowly clod ; 

For the portals were burst of those irised bounds 

That the countless myriad hosts surrounds, 

And immenser far than that dream't of shore 

Gushed his love to the clod that his handiwork bore. 

And a ray had lived through an Eden's close 

To renascent appear when his love her chose, 

For the breath of love by the soul pertain'd 

Is an unsought light from that Eden gained 

That wakes, not nurtured, nor in mortal skill 

Can its life create or its voidance fill. 

Thus wrapt this youth in love's first waking dawn, 

As Flora salutes in the beams of morn 

With petal' d array Hyperion of light. 

That masks with his robe the visage of Night. 

The youth saw there primeval mountains glow, 

Capped by eternal green or winter's snow, 

And forest deep in uberous mantle grown, 

And trackless scenes to foot of man unknown ; 

And beauteous Nature, as a blushing bride 

In raiment of floriferous robe, beside 

Which millions have in passioned lyrics praised. 

And myriads since to it their acclaim raised 

Through ages by, as waves wash to the shore. 

Receding, dies — their impress is no more, 

Save by the sands ; their influx leaves behind 



92 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

The mortals on time's shore a space to find 

A name — a breath — the toll of fame's command 

Soon lies submerged on time's mutating strand ; 

And names renowned in fame's chronology 

Lives but a breath to that Eternity 

That sternly looms where years inundant greet 

Those portals fancy weaves, to end — and meet. 

And life is death — the exile of the soul, 

Sepulchred here from that eternal goal. 

That love, the thread, through ages interlace 

And lifts, ennobles man above the base, 

The meaner of Creation's lowly kind, 

The function of an Eden's gift consigned. 

And thus lived love the youth his passion told, 
That now renascent on through time has rolled. 
As seeds ^olus wafts when summer lies 
In jejuned mantle ; then her spirit dies 
To wake again, nurtured through winter's blast. 
And bear her fruit from seeds her prior cast. 
That vow, his love, that gift to progeny 
Through ages swell as love's ubiquity ; 
And love, the pure, in mortals closer find 
Its mandate from the master-hand designed. 



